Dauntless
by dauntlessN7
Summary: After the Normandy is attacked by a mysterious ship, Shepard awakens to find that the galaxy is under a greater threat than he had imagined. Story will encompass events of ME2 and ME3 with some changes. This is my first, please review and comment! Future Miri/Sheploo
1. I: The Beginning

This wasn't possible. Or rather, it wasn't supposed to be. He was dead. Gone. He had been spaced, and then, after an agonizing 2 minutes, it was over. There was nothing but darkness. Then, in a sudden turn of events, he was back. His eyes were closed, he was slipping in and out of the darkness, but he could…feel. No, this had to be something else; maybe some sort of deranged afterlife. As the seconds passed, however, he began to feel more and more aware of everything; his vitals, surroundings…maybe he really was back. His eyes opened to an unfamiliar operating room with two blurry figures. As he tried to move, he heard one of the figures say, "There, on the monitor. Something's wrong."

"His brain is showing spatial awareness; reacting to outside stimuli…oh my god Miranda, I think he's waking up!"

Shepard's heart began to pound at an alarming rate. He didn't know where he was or who these people were. He had to get up. He had to get out of here. His efforts to move had resulted only in a raised left arm, as it was all he had strength for. He heard a woman's voice yell, "Dammit Wilson I told you your estimates were off! Give him the sedative!" and before he knew it, the woman was by his side saying, "Shepard please stay calm." Despite his still-adjusting vision, he saw beauty that he had never even imagined. The woman's face was immaculate, with full, natural lips and piercing blue eyes, and was framed by jet-black hair. He didn't know who this woman was, or if she was even real, but he was certain he would never forget that face. In a matter of seconds, the darkness was enveloping him again…


	2. II: A Bullet Dodged

**II: A Bullet Dodged**

Miranda Lawson leaned back in her desk chair, threw her head back, and let out a sigh. Not once had she ever come so close to failure. She had almost lost John Shepard. Before the Lazarus Project, she didn't give a damn about the so-called super-soldier. But two years and four billion credits later, he was her brainchild; her creation. Of course, his good genes had made his resurrection easier in a myriad of ways, but she took serious pride in the time and effort she devoted to this project, and that pitiful excuse of a man known as Wilson had almost destroyed it.

Normally, Miranda had no trouble remaining grounded and emotionally stable in times of crisis, but the incident that had occurred not but an hour ago had left her frazzled, to say the least. If Wilson so much as dared to go to the bathroom without Miranda's approval, she would take his fucking head. Two years of hard work, almost all for naught. She had never failed the Illusive Man in all her years with Cerberus, and she was not about to start. These thoughts swam in circles in her head, adding to her stress level, which was considerable on its own.

And then there was Shepard.

She had read his dossier before his death, memorized his achievements, and studied his combat reports. She had never once spoken to the man, or even seen a picture of him. Before today, he was nothing more than a dossier. Today, she realized that John Shepard was a living, breathing being, complete with thoughts and feelings. In his short span of consciousness, she had seen so much confusion, so much fear in his eyes; she felt…sorry for him. She had held his hand while he was returned to a state of sedation, and after thoroughly chewing out Wilson and dismissing him from the operating room, she had returned to Shepard's side and examined him. Over a span of two years, she had witnessed him grow from a lifeless corpse to a fully recovered and strong man, able to breathe on his own in a matter of months.

She was surprised when Shepard's body took on its original size. Physically speaking, the man was a colossus. At 6'3" and 254 pounds, the man was nothing short of enormous. The solid muscle tissue that accounted for the vast majority of his body weight was perfectly distributed among his tall frame, which disguised his strength. His facial features had also regenerated impeccably, and for the first time, Miranda had seen the face of John Shepard. His eyes were unlike anything she had ever seen; a mesmerizing blue with grey specs, a relatively tan complexion, all framed by a strong jawline. Not once had she ever seen a man so incredibly attrac…

No.

There was no place for that kind of thought. She had a job to do. Shepard was a project, and as today's events demonstrated, an incomplete one at that. Sighing again, she brought her head back from its resting position, ran her hands through her hair, and returned her attention to her private terminal.


	3. III: Phoenix

**III: Phoenix **

**11/19: Hey guys, sorry about the first two chapters being so short. I wanted to lay a brief foundation for Shepard and Miranda's sides of the story. I won't be alternating between them every chapter, but I will switch at certain points when I feel it necessary. I've already begun work on the next chapter, and hope to have it up within the next few days to a week. My goal is to keep putting out chapters at a decent rate so you guys don't get fed up waiting for me to update hahaha. Please review! I'm new to this and feedback would be appreciated.**

Shepard woke to the sound of explosions and alarms. A voice blared over the intercom, "Shepard, can you hear me?" He groaned as an attempt at sitting up resulted in a sharp pain in his abdomen. The voice on the intercom shouted, "Shepard you need to get moving, this facility is under attack! There's a pistol in the locker at the other side of the room." He stood up, and after a moment of finding his balance, hurried to the cabinet, only to find that the pistol was empty. "There aren't any thermal clips!" he yelled back, hoping the voice would hear him.

"I'm sorry, you'll just have to pick some up as you go along; right now I need you to get moving. I'm updating your navpoint right now."

Shepard snapped to, letting his exceptional combat awareness and reflexes take over. He opened the door to a small room, where a dead soldier lay on the floor. He searched the pockets of the soldier, and found several thermal clips in the man's pockets. Loading his pistol, Shepard entered the next room, and again heard the woman's strangely familiar voice:

"They must have set up this barrier to hold off the attacking mechs. Take cover!"

Shepard ducked behind a nearby crate just in time, as a mech on a set of stairs at the opposite side of the room had begun to open fire. From a crouched position, Shepard turned the corner of the crate, sending a double-tap through the mech's head. He hurried over to the other side of the room and up the stairs, opening the door at the top. The next room was long and rather thin, with some sort of machinery in the middle of the room. As Shepard started towards the door on the far wall, he heard the voice again:

"Shepard, mechs are closing in on your position. Don't take any chances; stay in cover and take them out!"

_Brilliant…wouldn't have thought of it otherwise, _Shepard thought to himself. But before he had a chance to fully appreciate his own sarcasm, the door had opened and several mechs poured into the room. "Shit," he mumbled. He peered out and sent a shot through one of the mech's heads, rolled to cover a few feet away, took aim and fired twice, dropping another two mechs where they stood. Peering out of cover again, he saw last mech reloading its weapon, and decided to take advantage of the lull in the fire, taking a standing aim and sending a final double-tap through the mech's head. Satisfied that he had not lost his touch, he scoured the mechs for thermal clips, popping a new one into his pistol, and pushed on.

The doorway filtered into a small corridor, with bodies of soldiers and unarmed civilians alike littering the ground. Shepard picked up what little he could find in terms of ammunition before turning the corner and opening the door at the end of the hallway. The door had led to a balcony overlooking a large walkway. Unsure of what to do next, Shepard took in his surroundings. He picked up what seemed to be a grenade launcher that was lying next to a dead soldier, placed his pistol on its hip mount, took cover, and awaited instructions from his quasi- guardian angel. As if on cue, the intercoms crackled to life:

"More reinforcements heading your way Shepard…use your grenade launcher to take them out."

"Again…shit," he mumbled, trying to use his dry sense of humor to take his mind off of the millions of questions that had begun to form in his head regarding his…reincarnation. Shepard took aim at the door at the end of the walkway below him, and as soon as the door open, he fired. The blast vaporized the slew of mechs, putting an end to the firefight before it had a chance to begin. Not moving, Shepard blinked twice, surprised at the firepower that the compact launcher had boasted.

"Take the lift on your right down one floor."

Silently obeying, Shepard jogged over to the elevator, dropped down one floor, and headed towards the doorway that he had just blown apart. The explosion from the launcher had ruptured a gas line, resulting in a sizeable wall of fire that spanned the width of the doorway. He ducked, slowly moved under the fire, and continued to the next room. Before he opened the door, his comm link buzzed with static:

"Shepard, you're doing great…can't hold…meet you…shuttle…"

After a few more seconds of static, the comm link died altogether. Despite the fact that he had no idea who had been talking him through this, a newfound sense of urgency pushed him on. He hoped that whoever was helping him was going to make it out of this. Inside the room, a few disabled mechs scattered the floor, but a data terminal caught his attention. The logs from the terminal contained the same woman's voice on the comm link. Whoever she was, she must have had something to do with his resurrection. _Who are you…_Shepard thought to himself. After navigating through the next few rooms with no resistance, he came to a room with two sides connected by a single walkway, bridging a cavernous drop. A soldier was pinned down by several mechs on the other side of the room, taking heavy fire.

"Shepard, over here!"

Expertly evading the mech fire, Shepard rolled into cover next to the soldier, a man of African descent by the looks of it.

"What are you doing here Shepard? I thought you were still a work in progress!"

"Your guess is as good as mine. Some woman with an Australian accent has been helping me get out of here via my comm link. Are you with her?"

"Yeah. Her name is Miranda Lawson. She was the head of the project designed to bring you back. Sorry for the confusion; I guess this is all new to you right now. My name is Jacob Taylor, I've been stationed here for…"

Shepard and Jacob both flinched as a round from a mech ricocheted off a railing, dangerously close to their heads. Jacob darted out of cover, aimed, and took out the mech that had shot at them.

"Things must be worse than I thought if Miranda's got you running around. I'll fill you in on everything, but we better get you to the shuttle first."

Not keen on wasting any more valuable time, Shepard replied, "I'll follow your lead." Jacob's game plan was short and simple, which Shepard welcomed, given the confusion of the last half hour or so:

"I'm low on thermal clips, but I'm a biotic. If you can draw their fire, I'll hit 'em with whatever I can."

Shepard exited cover, taking out three of the four mechs in a matter of seconds with well-placed pistol rounds, while Jacob tore apart the remaining one with his biotics. Jacob was shocked by Shepard's combat prowess; He had never seen such an incredible display of marksmanship, especially considering the fact that the man had been dead for two years. Holstering his pistol, Jacob turned to Shepard,

"That was hot shit, Commander. Now that we have a minute, I'm sure you have a lot of questions…"

"I sure as hell do Taylor, but they can wait. Any idea who's behind all this?"

"These are all security mechs. They've been hacked, so my guess would be that it was an inside job."

"What's the quickest way to the shuttles?"

"Depends on where the mechs are thickest, Shepard, but it's probably best if we…"

Suddenly, Jacob's comm link activated: "Check, check, is anyone on this frequency? Anybody still alive out there? Hello?"

Taylor, clearly surprised by the presence of survivors, replied, "Wilson, this is Jacob. I'm here with Commander Shepard. We just took out a wave of mechs in D wing."

"Shepard? How the hell…never mind. You need to get him out of there. Get to the service tunnels and head to the network control room from there."

"Roger that, Wilson. Just stay on this frequency."

Shepard turned to Jacob:

"I know that name. I remember Miranda yelling at him when I woke up the first time."

"That's him. Wilson's the chief of medical tech. He answers directly to Miranda."

"Got it. I'll follow you to the service tunnels."

Shepard and Taylor passed through the door and walked down a hallway, gathering a few spare thermal clips along the way. Upon opening the next door, they were immediately met with mech fire. Before Jacob even had a chance to react, the Commander had double-tapped both mechs through the head. Shepard's remarkable combat abilities continued to amaze Jacob. He had seen some damn good fighters in his military experience, but it only took a few minutes for him to realize Shepard was a cut above. The Commander made it all look easy; it made Jacob wonder if Shepard was even using half of his abilities to dispatch the mechs. Again, his comm link sounded; it was Wilson:

"Oh Christ they found me! Help, HELP!"

Jacob's attention immediately turned to his omni-tool:

"Wilson, hang in there…where are you?"

"Server Room B! Hurry, they're out of control!"

Shepard and Taylor doubled their pace, dashing through the corridor and up a set of stairs. Shepard heard Wilson say something over the comm link, but could only pick out bits and pieces of the transmission, but had heard enough to know that Wilson had been hit. Turning the corner, Taylor and the Commander opened the door. Wilson lay propped up against a cabinet, and immediately looked up at the two soldiers:

"Bastards got me in the leg."

Shepard looked down at Wilson, replying,

"You were there when I first regained consciousness."

"Yeah that was me. How about we talk about this after we fix my leg?"

Shepard nodded and walked over to the med cabinet on wall to his right. Turning back to Wilson, he activated his omni-tool and applied medi-gel to the man's wound. Fortunately, there was enough medi-gel to alleviate the pain and stop the bleeding, and Wilson slowly returned to his feet.

"Thanks, Shepard. Didn't think that you would be the one saving my life…guess that makes us even now. I thought maybe I could shut down the security mechs, but whoever did this fried the whole system, making the process completely irreversible."

Shepard noticed Jacob tense up while Wilson was talking. Taylor scowled and before Shepard had a chance to respond, he interjected,

"We didn't ask what you were doing. Why do you even have security mech clearance? You were in the bio wing."

"Weren't you listening? I came here to try and fix this! Besides, I was shot! How the fuck do you explain that?"

The accusations flew back and forth for a few seconds until Shepard, short of patience, took a step towards Taylor and Wilson, and growled, "Can it, both of you! You're both strangers to me as far as I'm concerned! Let's get someplace safe, then you two can sort out whose fault this shit show is."

Taylor nodded, turning to Shepard:

"Right. Sorry about that, Commander. First, we need to find Miranda though. We can't leave her behind."

Wilson, however had a different opinion:

"Forget about Miranda. She was over in D wing. The mechs were all over that sector. There's no way in hell she survived!"

"A few mechs won't stop Miranda. She's alive, Wilson."

"Then where is she? Why haven't we heard from her? There are only two explanations for this: either she's dead, or she's the one who hacked all the mechs."

Shepard glared at Wilson, replying, "If she were a traitor, she wouldn't have woken me up and warned me about the attacks."

"Okay, maybe she isn't the traitor. But that doesn't change the facts: we're here, and she isn't. We need to save ourselves."

Shepard shook his head, but as he tried to think the situation over, the door at the far side of the room opened and several mechs entered the room, guns hot. Instinctively, he reached for his pistol, took aim, and sent 2 rounds into a pile of canisters filled with highly volatile chemicals. The canisters exploded, eradicating the mech threat. The three men headed towards the door, stepping over the charred remains of the mechs as they made their way across the room. Shepard saw Jacob stop out of the corner of his eye.

"Good job taking them down, Commander, but this whole situation is getting a little tense for my liking. If I tell you who I work for, will you continue to trust me?"

Shepard stared at Jacob, unsure of what he was going to hear next.

"The Lazarus Project, the program that was designed to rebuild you, is being funded and controlled by Cerberus."

_Motherfucker…_Shepard thought to himself.

"I ran into a few of your people while investigating Saren's activities, Taylor."

"And?"

"Taylor, you seem like a smart guy. You know exactly how I feel about Cerberus. If you want to help me get off this station, that's one thing, but I'm not going to have you reciting your mission statement word-for-word while we're getting shot at. I want to make it perfectly clear that I do not, nor will I ever have any intention of joining your little pro-human splinter group. Understood?"

"Yes commander. I'd be suspicious right now if I were you as well, but we need to work together to get off this station. I just thought you deserved to know what's what. Once we get to the shuttles, I'll take you to the Illusive Man. I'm sure he can answer any questions you have."

"Fair enough. Let's go."

Shepard turned on his heel and began moving toward the doors.

After a long and tedious process of clearing a path to the shuttle bay through a seemingly endless swarm of mechs, Shepard, Wilson, and Jacob arrived at the entrance. Wilson began to punch in the access code for the door.

"C'mon, through here, we're almost at the-"

His sentence was cut short by a hiss as the door opened, revealing a gorgeous, black-haired woman in a skin-tight white and black Cerberus uniform. _I'd recognize that face anywhere, _Shepard thought. Her eyes met Wilson's, and her face morphed into an angry sneer.

"Miranda? But I thought you were-"

Again, Wilson's sentence was cut short, as Miranda, in one swift motion, took her pistol and put a round between his eyes. Shepard had to snap himself out of gazing at the woman, and at the sound of the gunshot, instinctively pointed his pistol at Miranda. Jacob briefly glanced down at Wilson's lifeless body, turned to Miranda, and asked, "What the hell are you doing?"

Her response was short. "My job; Wilson betrayed us all."

Now it was Shepard's turn to speak. Weapon still trained on Miranda, he asked, "Even if you're sure, did he really deserve that welcome?"

"He sabotaged our security systems, killed my staff, and had I not put an end to his plans, us."

Jacob, still confused by what had just transpired, replied, "You sure about that Miranda? We've known Wilson for years."

Miranda smirked and put her hand on her hip. "I'm never wrong, Jacob. I thought you'd have learned that by now." There was a bit of smugness about her that Shepard found annoying, yet inexplicably attractive. _Stay focused, asswipe,_ he reminded himself, stowing any unnecessary thoughts in the back of his mind. Getting back to business, Shepard interjected, "You should have taken him alive; he may have had valuable information."

"Too risky. I've put too much of my time and effort into bringing you back to life to let you get killed now."

Shepard didn't like being treated like an object, especially by this woman. She talked about him as if he were a model spaceship that she had been gluing together for months. He was a humble man by all accounts, but at the same time, he didn't appreciate someone quantifying his existence.

"What's our next step?" he grunted.

"We get on the shuttle and go. My boss wants to speak with you as soon as possible."

"You mean the Illusive Man? Taylor was kind enough not to keep me in the dark."

Miranda shot a searing glare at Jacob. "Yes. Now let's get out of here before more mechs come looking for us."

"What about survivors? We should go back and see if anyone else made it out."

"Shepard, everyone else knew the risks when they signed on to this project. They're all expendable. The only one worth saving is you, don't you get it? If they're not here by now, they're not coming."

"Funny, that's what Wilson said about you. I hardly believe that any of the operatives imagined an inside hack-job would turn the mechs into killing machines when they signed on to the Lazarus Project, Lawson. But if you're sure that there aren't any survivors, let's get the hell out of here. I've had enough of this station to last a lifetime."

"Or two, in your case." Miranda retorted as the three boarded the shuttle.

As he entered the shuttle cabin, Shepard sighed. This was one hell of a rude awakening.


	4. IV: Old Memories and New Mysteries

**IV: Old Memories and New Mysteries**

**11/19: Hey guys! I had much more free time than anticipated, and decided to hammer out the rest of this chapter today. Enjoy, and review if you can please! Any feedback or reactions to the chapter would be greatly appreciated, even if it's just a little "good job" or "this sucks" (though if you do ni fact think it sucks, please at least give me a reason or two so that I can make the next chapter not suck hahaha.) I'll begin work on the next chapter immediately, and should have it up in the next week or so, maybe even earlier!**

John Shepard had never been this sore in his life. As soon as he took a seat across from Miranda and Jacob in the shuttle, he immediately began to feel the fatigue and ache that his adrenaline had alleviated during combat. Two years on the operating table had taken its toll on his body, and as a result, a dull but ever-present throbbing sensation wracked his body. _How did it all come to this?..._he wondered. He looked out the window, trying to piece together the events that had gotten him here. The Normandy had been destroyed, but he had stayed on board to escort Liara, Garrus, Joker, and Ashley to the escape pods.

Ashley.

During the pursuit of Saren and the geth, he and the gunnery chief had become lovers. She was the first person he had ever truly loved. His mind began to run in cricles with thoughts of her. Was she alright? Where was she now? Did she know he was alive? And if she didn't, had she moved on? The thoughts began to consume him, until he was brought back to reality by Miranda's cold voice:

"Shepard, before you meet with the Illusive Man, we need to ask you a few questions to evaluate your condition."

Taylor glanced over to the black-haired beauty next to him:

"C'mon Miranda, more tests? Shepard neutralized those mechs with an efficiency that I haven't seen from you, me, or any other soldier I've ever come across."

"That may be so, but it's been two years since the attack on the Normandy. The Illusive Man needs to know that Shepard's personality and memories are intact."

Shepard felt light-headed. "Jesus Christ. Two years? I've been gone that long?" His thoughts immediately returned to the SR-1's gunnery chief. _Ash…_

The Commander's dismay did not go unnoticed by Miranda; not that she cared or anything. She cleared her throat and activated her omni-tool:

"That's correct, Commander. Now, if you don't mind, we'll begin. Records show you grew up on earth. Tough environment, with no parents. You enlisted as soon as you could, and gained notoriety when you were the only survivor of a Thresher Maw attack on Akuze. Correct?"

Shepard could feel the anger churning in his gut. "Don't open up old wounds, Lawson. I lost fifty good men that day because of Cerberus. Get on with it," he snarled.

Miranda tried to stow her reactions to his tone of voice. An outstanding biotic herself, Miranda Lawson had little reason to fear any human being she had ever come across. But Shepard was different. The man's piercing glare and tone of voice had…intimidated her. Again she cleared her throat.

"Let's try something more recent. At Saren's cloning facility on Virmire, you had to leave one of your squad members behind to die in the blast. Lieutenant Kaidan Allenko was killed in action. Why did you leave him behind?"

Shepard shot to his feet, ignoring the aching sensation that flooded his body again. Glaring down at Miranda, he spat,

"Because I couldn't fucking get there in time Miranda! I had to leave a friend to die that day; do you think I did it because I wanted to? I had to save as many people as I could."

Finding some courage, Miranda returned his glare:

"I'm not judging your decision, Commander. Even an idiot would know that that facility had to be wiped out. I suggest you learn to keep your emotions in check."

"And I suggest you shut your fucking mouth, Lawson! With your knowledge of me, you could have asked me a million questions about my past, but no; you HAD to bring up Akuze and Virmire. Either you're hell-bent on pissing me off, or you're just naturally good at it. I hope you're satisfied with the way this little questionnaire went, and I hope you didn't plan on asking for my help with any of your little Cerberus problems, because at this point I'd rather impale myself on dragon's teeth than continue to work with you. I don't know what your boss wants with me, but I can gauran-damn-tee you that if he asks anything of me, the answer will be no."

Miranda began to lose control. The man was infuriating. A blue aura began to surround her clenched fists and in an icy tone, she responded:

"I may be the one who put you back together, Commander, but men who talk to me like that often come to regret it. Control yourself."

Disregarding the gorgeous woman's threat entirely, Shepard turned to Taylor, who continued to stare in disbelief at how quickly the situation had escalated.

"I've had enough of this. I'm tired, sore as all hell, and I'm gonna head to the back to get some shut-eye. Wake me up when we get wherever we're going, Jacob."

Taylor nodded, and with that, the Commander walked past Miranda and entered the rear section of the shuttle, removing his armor and hanging it on a nearby rack. A cot small cot lay in the back corner of the room. _It'll have to do_…he thought to himself. Sitting on the edge of the cot, he untied his boots, setting them neatly at the edge of the bed in true military fashion. He slowly laid down on his back, resting his head on his hands. He was tired, but his racing mind denied him the rest that his body so desperately needed. Again, the questions began to surface. _Why did Cerberus bring me back? What do they want with me? How come the Alliance didn't try to do the same thing? _

_The Alliance. _

For the third time today, Ashley Williams had crossed his mind.

_God, I miss her._

Shepard had never considered himself a romantic by any stretch of the imagination, but the strong, beautiful, and always-poetic gunnery chief had shown him otherwise. He had fallen for her, and he fell hard. He remembered the nights they used to spend in his cabin together, the way she used to say his name as she slept, the way her skin felt against his…it all came back to him. His heart sank at the thought that he might not see her again. Shepard wondered what she had done in the time following his death. Had she mourned him? Had she moved on with someone else? Where the hell was she?

After what seemed like hours, the thoughts slowly began to fade, as Shepard's body began to shut down, and sleep came over him.

_The fight had been raging for hours. 36 of his men were dead, most of their bodies vaporized by the Thresher maw's acid. Shepard darted into cover, pulled his Mantis sniper rifle from the mount on his back, and sent as many rounds into the mouth of the Thresher maw as he could in order to draw the fire away from what was left of his squad. The shots weakened the maw, but did not have the desired effect. Shepard could only watch as the maw reared its enormous head and spewed a torrent of acid, evaporating the remainder of his men and the rocks they had used its cover. Shepard reached for his grenade launcher, but upon pulling the trigger, discovered that the gun was empty. Horrified, he looked up as the Thresher maw once again reared its head…_

"NOOOOOOO!"

Shepard jolted as the door to rear cabin was thrown open. Miranda stood in the opening, a surprised look on her face.

"What the hell is going on back here?"

Shepard had not realized that he had roared out loud, not just in his dream. He swung his feet over the edge of the cot, scratched the back of his head, and began lacing up his boots.

"Sorry about that. Just a bad dream I guess."

He swore he could have seen a smidgeon of concern on the woman's face for a second, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

"Oh. Well, get whatever you need together. We should be arriving in approximately fifteen minutes."

"Right."

With that, Shepard rose to his full height, a process slowed by his incessant aches. Unfortunately, the sleep he had gotten had neither replenished his energy nor cleared his mind. If anything, the nightmare, coupled with the ever-present worrying with regards to Ash, had stressed him out even more. He hadn't been this drained, both physically and mentally, since Kaidan's death on Virmire, which, to him, seemed to have occurred only weeks ago. He trudged over to the sink across the room from the cot and turned the cold water on. Cupping his hands together, he splashed some over his face, and for some reason he immediately felt better. After doing this a few more times, he grabbed a towel from the rack on his left and dabbed his face until it was semi-dry, the cooling sensation from the water still tickling his face. He took a brief glance at himself in the mirror. Amazingly, his face looked exactly like he had remembered it. A single, thin scar ran down his left cheek.

_Must be from the surgeries_.

He was impressed with the job that Miranda Lawson had done reconstructing his body.

_Shouldn't have gone off on her like that_.

It wasn't like him. Normally, Shepard had no trouble keeping his emotions in check. Akuze and Virmire were painful memories which he would rather not have relived, but he had never torn into someone like that for mentioning them before. He quickly decided that when the opportunity presented itself, he would try to make things right, for he was not a proud person, and would be the first to admit his many faults. Finding a small spring in his step, he walked over to the rack, donned his beloved N7 armor, and slid the door to the middle compartment open. Silently, he walked over and took his original seat across from Miranda and Jacob. Jacob was staring out the window, while Miranda was reading what Shepard assumed was an email from the Illusive Man on a data pad. After a few minutes, the pilot informed the three that they had arrived at the shuttle dock, and the door swung upwards. Shepard let Miranda lead the way and followed her out, with Jacob in tow.

Miranda led Shepard and Jacob through the crowded hallways of the space station. As Shepard kept pace with Miranda, he felt the eyes of hundreds of Cerberus employees on him. Many looked surprised to see him, some even gasped. He continued walking, trying to ignore the attention, but his acute senses made him well aware of the many people murmuring his name. After another five minutes of navigating the station's corridors, Miranda stopped at a door.

"The comm room is right here Shepard. The Illusive Man would like to speak with you now."

Shepard furrowed his eyebrows.

"I thought this would be done face to face."

Miranda stifled a laugh at the Commander's response. Only one person had the privilege to meet with the Illusive Man in person, and that was her.

"No, I'm afraid not. Just walk over to the console and press the center button. He's expecting you now. I'll be over at my terminal in the room across the hall when you're finished. Try not to be as much of an ass to him as you were to me. He's not as forgiving as I am."

Shepard swallowed a cutting remark, and chose to nod instead. He pressed a button on the door panel, opening the door to a dark room with a single console in the center. He walked over to the center console and pressed the button as Miranda had told him. The comm system sparked to life, and before Shepard sat a figure with grey hair and blue eyes, with large white orbs in the irises. After a long pull from a cigarette, the man broke silence:

"Commander Shepard."

Shepard shifted his weight and crossed his arms.

"Illusive Man. I thought we would be meeting face to face."

"A necessary precaution. Not unusual for people who know what you and I know."

"Let's just get one thing straight, Illusive Man. You might be the reason I'm still alive, but that does not mean I trust you. Understood?"

"You need to put your personal feelings aside. Humanity is up against the greatest threat of our brief existence."

"You mean the Reapers."

"Precisely, I'm glad to see that your memories are still intact. How are you feeling?"

"Skip the pleasantries. You need to earn the right to ask me those kinds of questions."

"Cerberus isn't as evil as you might believe, Commander. You and I have the same goals; we just have different methods."

"Cut to the chase. What are the Reapers doing that made you decide to bring me back?"

"We're at war, Shepard. No one, even the alliance, wants to admit it, but humanity is under attack. While you were dead, entire colonies have been disappearing. Human colonies."

Shepard watched as the hologram of the Illusive Man took another drag from his cigarette, stood up, then continued

"We believe it's someone working for the Reapers. Just as Saren and the geth aided Sovereign. You've seen it yourself. You bested all of them. That's why we chose you."

"For the money you spent rebuilding me, you could have trained and mobilized an entire army against this Reaper threat. This hardly seems like a sound allocation of Cerberus's resources."

"You're too humble, Shepard. I had you rebuilt because you're unique. Not just in terms of your unsurpassed combat prowess and leadership abilities, but because of what you represent. You're more than a soldier. To humanity, you're a symbol. A symbol people will rally behind. And I don't know if the Reapers understand fear, but you killed one of their largest and deadliest when you destroyed Sovereign. They have to account for that."

Shepard found it rather difficult to argue with the man's reasoning. Humanity did need a symbol to rally behind, but he doubted it should be him. In his mind, Shepard had only done what needed to be done; he was lucky enough to be successful, but that didn't qualify him for hero status in his book. Returning to the issue at hand, Shepard asked, "When Sovereign and I talked, it claimed that the Reapers intended to extinguish all forms of organic life. Why would the Reapers target a few human colonies?"

The Illusive Man took another long drag from his cigarette, exhaling before he spoke:

"I should have clarified the scale of these events. Hundreds of thousands of colonists have vanished. In my book, that fits the definition of harvesting. Nobody, especially the Alliance, is paying attention. They turn a blind eye because the attacks seem random, and occur at remote locations. The Alliance has placed the blame on pirates and mercs. It's a lot easier than diverting resources to investigate the Reaper threat when they're too concerned with rebuilding the citadel. I don't know why they've suddenly targeted humanity. Maybe you made it personal when you vanquished Sovereign."

"If what you say is in fact true and the Reapers are behind all this, then I would consider helping you. But I don't trust Cerberus; especially not since the shit you pulled on Akuze. I want to see this for myself before I agree to work with you. And I also want to make it clear that should I agree, I am working _with _you, not _for _you. You point me in the right direction, then you stay the hell outta my way."

"You make a valid point, Shepard. I would be disappointed if I could convince you that easily. You didn't get where you are today by being easily swayed by others. I have arranged a shuttle for you to take to Freedom's Progress; it's the location of the most recent abductions. Miranda and Jacob will brief you."

"Miranda killed Wilson in cold blood and Jacob's just a gun for hire. How am I supposed to trust them enough to work with them for any period of time?"

"Shepard, Wilson was one of my best agents, but Miranda was correct in labeling him a traitor. She's rarely ever wrong. She did exactly what I would have asked her to do before I even asked her. Jacob is a former alliance soldier. He's one of the best. Not your caliber, as I'm sure you know that there is only one soldier in the galaxy who we can label 'your caliber,' but he's damn good. He's never fully trusted me, but he's always been honest about it. You'll be just fine with them."

"Doesn't seem like I have a say in the matter. I'm not sure I like the sound of this."

"You always have a choice in the matter, Commander. If you don't find the evidence we're both looking for on Freedom's Progress, then we can part ways. No one will pursue you. Like I said, we have the same goals. But I strongly suggest you take Jacob and Miranda with you to Freedom's Progress. Find anything you can regarding the abduction. Try to figure out who's behind this, and see if there is any connection with the Reapers. I brought you back. It's up to you to do the rest."

Before Shepard had a chance to respond, the comm link terminated. Shepard let out an audible sigh. _And thus the ridiculous story that is my life continues. _He scratched the back of his head, turned and walked out of the comm room. A few steps later, he opened the door and found Miranda working at a private terminal. Shepard was unsure how to approach her after the altercation on the shuttle, but was relieved when she was the first to speak.

"The Illusive Man is very impressed with you. I'm eager to see if you can live up to his expectations on this mission."

While Shepard took some offense to the gorgeous woman's attitude, he pushed it aside and focused on his apology.

"Look, I'm sorry I was rather…irritable during your field test of my memories. I prefer not to talk about those things, and they were still fresh wounds when I woke up. I wanted to apologize for that and I also wanted to let you know how much I appreciate what you and the Lazarus project did for me."

Miranda glanced up at Shepard, surprised that he had apologized, but her ice-cold demeanor quickly returned.

"I just hope it was worth it. A lot of lives were lost on that station."

"We don't have to be enemies. I may not be Cerberus, but we have the same goals regarding Freedom's Progress. I'm trying to be diplomatic, but your attitude isn't helping anything."

"I have the utmost respect for your abilities, Shepard; it's your motivations that concern me. I believe in what Cerberus stands for. Only time will tell if you prove to be an asset or a liability to our cause."

"I suppose you're right. Tell me a little about yourself, Miranda."

"Worried about my qualifications Shepard? I can shoot a mech's head off at a hundred yards, or crush it with my considerable biotics. Take your pick."

"I was trying to get to know you as a person."

"I'm not looking for a friend, Shepard. Stay focused on the mission."

Shepard sighed.

"Look if this is about earlier, I'm sorry. I've already said that. It's obvious you're not interested in talking. I'll meet you down by the shuttle whenever you're ready."

With that, the Commander left the room.

Miranda continued to work at her private terminal. After organizing her e-mail inbox, she began to compose a message to a contact on Illium. While doing so, she began to guage Shepard. During the shuttle ride over, Jacob had given immense praise in his testimony of the Commander's combat abilities, even going as far to say that he was well beyond her in terms of deadliness. She scoffed at the idea. _We'll soon find out if Jacob was exaggerating…_she mused to herself. In terms of Shepard's personality, Miranda was pleasantly surprised that he had the decency to admit his wrongdoings, something few men of his rank and notoriety would have done. Not that it mattered to her. She wasn't about to get close to the man. There were many things about the Commander that irked Miranda. For starters, Shepard held a blatant grudge against Cerberus. Sure, the man lost fifty of his best troops at the hands of the organization on Akuze, but she never understood why he couldn't reason beyond that. The soldiers he had lost were just that: soldiers. They knew the risks serving with Shepard, and he had been a fool if he had ever befriended any. Given the Commander's demeanor and inquisitive nature, she assumed that this was the case. But more than anything else, she hated that the man could pierce the thick armor of complete emotionlessness she had spent years putting up. She was intimidated by him during the shuttle ride, and he had seen it. And he had done it so effortlessly, at that. Oddly enough, it seemed that he had no intention of taking advantage of that fact when talking to her a few minutes ago; he even seemed a bit defensive. The more she tried to figure him out, the more confused she made herself; the man was a complete mystery. She mentally scolded herself for even giving the buffoon that much thought, and returned to the task of writing her email. After a few minutes of pounding away at the keyboard, Miranda logged out, switched off the private terminal, and exited the room towards the shuttle bay, heels clicking rhythmically with each footfall.


	5. V: All Quiet on Freedom's Progress

**V: All Quiet on Freedom's Progress**

**11/26: Holy crap guys, sorry this chapter took forever to finish. At least I got it done within a week though! Thanksgiving break was crazy, especially with my birthday being on Turkey day, so I didn't have as much time as I would have liked to write. Please review and tell me what you think! The next chapter will be rather short and will hopefully appear tomorrow, so keep reading, and thanks so much!**

Shepard stood over the bench in the back of the shuttle, absent-mindedly checking the components of his pistol and trusty M-8 Avenger assault rifle. Despite knowing that nothing was wrong with either of the weapons, He thoroughly disassembled and inspected them to put his mind at greater ease. Checking his weapons prior to each mission had become a force of habit. It gave Shepard a moment to reflect, both on what had happened up to the mission, what needed to be done, and what lay ahead. Of what lay ahead he was nowhere near certain, but he hoped that whatever he would find at Freedom's Progress would give some sort of indication. While he still didn't fully trust Jacob, it was reassuring that he could handle himself in combat scenarios. He wasn't sure what the hell they would run into on the colony, but he couldn't afford to have anyone with him who wasn't ready, willing, and able to pull their own weight. If it came to it, he would put himself in harm's way to save the two operatives accompanying him (he had a reputation for taking multiple bullets for his fellow men), but the fact that he was flying blind into a mission with little to no intel troubled him. He had done so multiple times during his investigation into Saren and the geth, and had sustained a heavy loss as a result.

Reassembling his pistol and beginning his inspection of the M-8, his thoughts turned to Cerberus's stunning second-in-command. The woman was abrasive, arrogant, and extremely cold. Even if he wasn't preoccupied with his feelings for Ashley, he could never imagine himself feeling anything for Miranda Lawson aside from pure disgust. She embodied everything he stood against as a person. Where Shepard was a man of extreme humility and honesty, Lawson clearly knew she was gifted, and didn't hesitate to flaunt it.

_Look what she wears, for God's sake. _

The white and black Cerberus uniform that she wore hugged and accented her spectacular curves. Even the Commander had to admit that he had caught himself looking once or twice. It was hard not to though; the woman was the embodiment of pure beauty, and exuded an aura of raw sexuality. He knew she was fully aware of it, and resented her for bathing in her apparent superiority. Shepard found overabundant pride laughable; the beautiful and intelligent would not be spared if the Reapers came. All would be slaughtered indiscriminately.

But above all, what bothered him most about Miranda Lawson was her ice-cold demeanor. The woman was clearly unreceptive to any emotion whatsoever, and had seemingly ignored his apology outright. He had put his frustration aside during their conversation in order to be civil, but it tugged at his patience. That said, Shepard did find Miranda's emotionlessness intriguing.

_People don't put up walls that thick unless they're hiding something_

He wondered what it was for a moment, but came to no conclusion. The curvy biotic had clearly spent years building up her emotional defenses, and while Shepard had a tendency to befriend and become close to those under his command, he neither had the time, strength or will to bother to figure out what she was hiding behind them. Regardless, he would continue to be as professional and civil with the woman as possible. She was working with him, and he would not lose either of them on this mission if he had anything to say about it. If there was one thing Shepard took seriously, it was the oath he took upon completion of the N7 program and officer training: never leave your comrades behind. He swore by this oath, and had always upheld it to the best of his considerable abilities.

Quickly snapping the pieces of his assault rifle together, he then placed it in the mount on the back of his armor and walked into the middle compartment. Jacob had assumed his normal seat. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Miranda entered the shuttle cabin, taking her seat next to Jacob. The shuttle took off from the dock, and rocketed into space. Miranda looked up at Shepard, who was adjusting the gauntlets on his N7 armor:

"Freedom's Progress is only a short ride away, Shepard, and we should arrive soon. The Illusive man put us under your command. Do you have any orders for us?"

Shepard looked up at Cerberus's second-in-command.

"Are you sure you two will be comfortable following my orders?"

"Yes, Commander. We didn't bring you back from the dead to second-guess your every move. As long as you don't do anything damaging to Cerberus, I'll follow your orders."

"What did you find at the other colonies?"

"Nothing, really. No bodies, signs of struggle, or anything like that. But investigation officials and looters turned up at the other colonies and likely wiped away any evidence that might have been useful to us. We're hoping to be the first ones on the scene in this instance, since it's the most recent abduction location."

"Hmmm. Our first priority should be the search for and rescue of anyone who may have survived the encounter. If we find any, we can transport them to a safer location. They may also have information as to what the hell happened there."

"That's unlikely, Commander. No one was left at the other colonies. They were entirely deserted."

Jacob looked over at Miranda, replying,

"It'd be nice to find somebody though. Even one survivor would be better than the past few ghost towns we've been to."

Shepard nodded in agreement. A few seconds later, the shuttle came to a stop and the Commander rose to his feet.

"Looks like we're here. Survivors are our first priority, but any clues we can pick up along the way, we'll take. Have you two eaten?"

Miranda and Jacob nodded in unison.

"Good. I'm not sure what we'll run into out there, but I just wanted to make sure you had enough fuel to power your biotics in case things get hairy. While waiting for you on the shuttle, I installed some tech upgrades into my omni-tools and had both of yours fitted with a piece of Alliance technology that I had kept in my armor; not even the Illusive Man knows about it. Luckily, it survived the attack on the Normandy, even though I didn't."

Miranda raised her eyebrow, hoping the Commander would explain.

"I worked with my ship's engineers to develop it after we took down Saren and Sovereign. It's a weapon designed to aid the user in close-quarter combat. Hopefully you won't need it because of your biotics, but it's always nice to have a back-up plan, and it's one of my favorite weapons. Extensive testing hasn't been done on it yet, but rest assured it is safe and user-friendly. I call it the omni-blade."

Shepard activated his omni-tool, pressed a button, and a light orange blade immediately rotated into position from above his gauntlet.

"Just press the button at 3 o'clock on the control wheel. This blade is extremely versatile, and will breach just about any defense or armor you can think of. If you get into trouble during combat and have to fight close quarters, this is your best friend. Any questions?"

Miranda shook her head.

"No commander. Hopefully we won't need these, but I'm impressed. I didn't peg you as the tech type."

"I'm not. The Normandy's engineers did most of the work. My tech abilities are limited at best, but I try my hand at it from time to time. Let's go, everyone on me."

With that, the shuttle door opened, revealing a mass of snow-covered structures. The snow continued to fall, and Shepard could see his breath against the night air. Reaching for his assault rifle, he looked over his shoulder and ordered,

"I want everyone to be prepared for anything. Stay armed and focused."

Miranda and Jacob nodded, both retrieving their weapons. Jacob reached for his pistol, while Miranda brandished a compact machine pistol dubbed the M-6. Shepard had heard of the weapon but had never seen someone use it because of the skill it required of the user. If placed in the right hands, the M-6 was deadly and packed significant stopping power, but the recoil and balance of the weapon made it damn near impossible for inexperienced users to shoot accurately.

_Interesting_, Shepard mused.

Satisfied that his team was ready, Shepard began his push into the abandoned colony. He headed towards the first door. Upon entry, Shepard was met with the sight of an empty building. The power flickered on and off, creating a haunting, strobe-like effect. Surprisingly, there was no blood or signs of a struggle. Shepard stopped, and cleared his mind of wandering thoughts. Jacob remarked, "Looks like everyone just got up and left," commenting on the lack of signs of a struggle. Raising his rifle again, Shepard addressed his team:

"Be that as it may, stay sharp. There might be something out there that we don't know about."

Miranda and Jacob snapped to, and the team continued further into the colony. Opening the door at the opposite end of the room that they had entered, Shepard, Miranda and Jacob filed onto an outdoor walkway. Shepard ordered a double time across the walkway, and the Cerberus operatives complied without fail. He didn't like the idea of spending too much time outside. In a colony like this, the outdoor walkways provided any would-be enemies with several ambush points, and the last thing he wanted was his team taking fire during an investigative mission. The walkway spilled onto an empty courtyard. Shepard didn't like this one bit. Taking a moment to scan his surroundings, he came to a halt at the entrance of the snowy courtyard. Satisfied that it was safe, Shepard continued into the camp. He heard Miranda's voice behind him.

"Interesting. No structural damage or signs of battle."

Shepard turned his head.

"Noted, Lawson. Keep your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary, friendly or not. Remember, our priority is survivors, then evidence. Though at this point, I think we'll find the latter first."

The team made their way through the courtyard to a large door at the far end, and was immediately met with mech fire upon entering.

"Find cover NOW!" Shepard barked, throwing himself behind a crate.

Miranda and Jacob complied without hesitation, using a slab of concrete as a barrier. Miranda hit a charging FENRIS mech with a powerful warp, dropping it quite literally at her feet. Certain that she and Jacob could handle themselves, she took a minute to watch Shepard in action. She wasn't sure how it was possible, but Jacob had managed to undersell the Commander's presence in combat. The man was absolutely astonishing to watch. Taking out several mechs with controlled bursts, he vaulted over the crate and charged a FENRIS mech head on, burying his omni-blade in its head before immediately rolling to his right and sending a concussive shot into a group of mechs across the platform. He was reckless and stupid, yet calculated at the same time. While was considerably frustrated at the fact that her two-year brainchild was running around with absolutely no regard for his own safety, Miranda had to admit that she had never seen anything like it. Snapping herself out of the bewilderment from watching Shepard in action, Miranda exited cover and dropped the final three mechs with a warp and 2 well-timed double taps respectively, and an eerie silence fell over the three. Jacob turned to Miranda.

"Those security mechs shouldn't have been hostile, Miranda. They should have recognized us as humans."

Miranda looked up and addressed the two men.

"Right. Someone must have reprogrammed them to attack on sight. We're not alone here."

Shepard nodded.

"Lawson, Taylor, stay on your toes. We should pick up the pace a bit so that we don't get pinned down in any firefights. I want us all moving quickly and quietly. You did well back there; keep it up alright?"

Miranda nodded her confirmation, while internally scoffing at the Commander's hypocrisy. He was ordering them to be careful, but only a few minutes ago was charging an explosive FENRIS mech with only his N7 armor.

"Understood, Commander."

The team continued clearing their way through the colony, taking down several mechs along the way. Upon entering a small building however, Shepard was shocked to find several quarians working at a terminal. The quarian leader yelled, "STOP RIGHT THERE!" and both parties immediately raised their weapons, ready to shoot, when a familiar voice reached Shepard's ears:

"Prazza, you said you'd let me handle this!"

It was Tali. The quarian engineer had served with Shepard on the SR-1, and was a trusted friend. She looked up at the Commander and let out an audible gasp.

"Wait…Shepard?"

As Shepard opened his mouth to respond, he was cut off by Prazza:

"I'm not taking any chances with Cerberus operatives!"

Tali whipped around, facing her subordinate, and hissed:

"Put those weapons down!"

Reluctantly, Prazza and his soldiers complied, lowering their rifles. Tali turned again to face Shepard:

"Shepard, is that…you're alive?"

"Yes Tali, it's me. Remember when I gave you that geth data? Did it help you complete your pilgrimage?"

"Yes it did. Prazza, this is definitely Commmander Shepard."

Prazza tilted his head.

"Why is your old Commander working for Cerberus?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should ask. Why are you with Cerberus now, Shepard?"

Shepard responded,

"I died, Tali. I was dead. Cerberus spent two years rebuilding me. They want me to investigate attacks on human colonies."

Prazza interjected:

"Likely story. No organization would commit so many resources to bring back one soldier."

Shepard's frustration with Prazza began to show on his face, as the corner or his lip twisted into an angry sneer. The quarian was being a real pain in the ass, and Shepard didn't have time to prove his decency to anyone. Seeing this, Tali turned around to silence her skeptical colleague:

"You haven't seen Shepard in action, Prazza. Trust me, it was money well-spent."

Turning back to her former Commander, Tali offered an idea:

"Perhaps we can work together. We're here looking for a young one of ours named Veetor. He was here on pilgrimage."

The sneer disappeared from Shepard's face and he cocked an eyebrow. It was nice to run into an old friend, though he wished it were under better circumstances.

"Isn't that a little strange, Tali? A quarian visiting a remote human colony?"

"Quarians can choose where they go on pilgrimage. My sources say that Veetor liked the idea of helping out in a small settlement. He was always…nervous in crowds."

Prazza stepped forward:

"She means that he was unstable. Combine that with damage to his suit's CO2 scrubbers and an infection from an open-air exposure, and he's likely delirious."

Shepard nodded slowly in understanding, as Tali picked up where Prazza left off:

"When he saw us landing, he hid in a warehouse on the far side of town. We suspect he programmed the mechs to attack anything that moved."

Shepard saw that it would be more beneficial to have the support of the quarians, and concurred:

"Sounds like Veetor's the only one who can tell us what the hell happened to this place. We should work together to find him."

"Good idea. You'll need two teams to get past the drones, anyway."

Prazza threw his arms up in frustration.

"Now we're working with Cerberus? Are you actually considering helping these people, Tali?"

"No Prazza, you're working for me, and if you can't follow my orders, go wait on the ship."

Satisfied that she had effectively squashed any insubordinate thoughts from Prazza's thick head, Tali turned her focus back to Shepard.

"Head for the warehouse through the center of the colony. We'll circle around the far side and draw off some of the drones to clear you a path."

"Your people really don't like Cerberus, Tali. What did I miss?"

Prazza fielded the question:

"They killed our people, infiltrated our flotilla, and tried to blow up one of our ships."

Miranda, who had been quiet throughout the entire exchange, stepped forward until she was at Shepard's side and put her hand on her hip, retorting,

"That's not how I'd have explained it, exactly. It was nothing personal."

Shepard sensed another argument brewing, and used what little patience he had left to mediate:

"Whatever happened is in the past. We need to focus right now; we've got a job to do."

Tali nodded.

"Agreed. We work together to get to Veetor."

"Make sure you keep radio contact with me, Tali."

"Will do. Good luck, Shepard. Whatever happens, it's good to have you back."

With that, Tali and the quarians turned and exited the small building. Shepard reached for the m-8 on his back mount, and turned to his squad.

"Taylor, Lawson, you guys understand the game plan? Same as before, stay quick and sharp. Weapons hot if you spot a mech. I'm going to need your biotic support if the security force under Veetor's control is anywhere near as big as I think it is.

Miranda checked her m-6 and locked eyes with Shepard.

"Understood."

Jacob gave a quick nod, and the three set off, heading down a set of stairs and back outside. The path to the warehouse was flooded with enemies, but Shepard, Jacob, and Miranda seemed to have no trouble cutting the mechs down. Shepard had let his other two teammates pick up some of the slack, and took the time to observe them in combat. Taylor was a good shot and a decent biotic, but Miranda's combat prowess had peaked Shepard's interest. The gorgeous woman's biotics were absolutely devastating, and she was a dead-eye shot with her m-6. It was no wonder the Illusive Man had made her his second-in-command. The woman was damn near perfect…

_If you don't count her icy personality, blatant and abrasive arrogance, infuriating superiority complex, lack of sense of humor or emotion even on a basic level, and her blind loyalty to Cerberus…_

The push to the warehouse was going well, when Tali buzzed Shepard's comm link:

"Shepard, Prazza and his squad rushed ahead! They're trying to get to Veetor before you! I tried to stop them but they wouldn't listen!"

Shepard couldn't contain his frustration.

"Son of a BITCH!"

He heard Miranda's voice behind him:

"Dammit, we should have expected this."

"Alright everyone, let's double-time it. We can still get there before Prazza does."

Shepard began to cover ground at an incredible rate, barely stopping when they ran across a few enemies. His frustration with Prazza had developed into pure anger, and Miranda and Jacob fought to keep up as he mowed down mech after mech, then tore off in the direction of the warehouse. As it turned out, Prazza's squad had met their demise at the hands of a giant YMIR mech, which in turn was torn to shreds by a combination of Miranda's overload and Shepard's omni-blade. The Commander had bull-rushed the ten foot tall synthetic juggernaut after Miranda had hit it with an overload and launched himself off a sizeable crate, decapitating the mech in midair.

Inside the warehouse, Veetor sat at a large control panel, mumbling endlessly. Shepard, Jacob, and Miranda walked inside and lowered their weapons, but the quarian hadn't even noticed them. Shepard remembered Prazza's description of Veetor's instability, and approached the quarian slowly from behind. As he got closer, he heard the quarian's frantic voice:

"Monsters coming back. Mechs will protect. Safe from swarms. Have to hide. No monsters. No swarms. No no no no no no."

"Veetor?"

"No Veetor. Not here. Swarms can't find. Monsters coming. Have to hide."

"Nobody is going to hurt you anymore, Veetor. Tell me what happened here."

Jacob cleared his throat.

"I'm not sure he can hear you, Commander."

In an effort to get the crazed quarian's attention, Shepard activated his omni-tool and shut all the monitors off. The act seemed to have worked, as Veetor's mumbling ceased abruptly. Slowly, he rose from his chair and turned to face the team:

"You're human…where did you hide? How come they didn't find you?"

Miranda responded,

"Who didn't find us?"

"The…swarms. The monsters. They took everyone."

Shepard took a step toward Veetor:

"Why didn't the colonists fight back, Veetor? Can you tell us what happened here?"

"You don't know. You didn't see. But I see everything."

Veetor returned his attention to the monitors, bringing up a video feed. Miranda looked up at the screens and crossed her arms:

"Looks like security footage. He must have pieced it together manually."

Jacob pointed to an insect-looking creature on the screen:

"What the hell is that?"

Miranda moved in for a closer look and then took a step back:

"My god…I think it's a Collector!"

Shepard turned to Miranda:

"Is that some kind of alien? I've never seen or heard of it before."

"They're a species beyond the Omega-4 relay. Only a few people have ever seen one in person. They usually work through intermediaries like slavers or hired mercenaries. If they're involved with the Reapers somehow, it could explain what happened to the colonists. They're and advanced species…they could have a weapon that disables an entire settlement at once."

Veetor looked up at the humans around him from his chair:

"The seeker swarms. No one can hide. The seekers find you. Freeze you. Then the monsters take you away."

Miranda turned to face her Commander:

"We need to get this video and any other data to the Illusive Man. Grab the quarian and call the shuttle to come pick us up."

Shepard was about to make a cutting remark about Miranda giving orders to him, when the door opened and Tali entered the warehouse:

"What? Veetor is injured. He needs treatment, not an interrogation!"

Shepard turned to back to his second-in-command:

"Let me handle this, Miranda. Tali's right. I'll work something out, while you and Jacob head back to the shuttle. We can take Veetor's omni-tool data with us, but he needs to go back to the flotilla for treatment as soon as possible."

Miranda glared at Shepard and reluctantly followed Jacob out the door.


	6. VI: Back at the Helm

**VI: Back at the Helm**

**11/27: Back again guys! Here's a rather short chapter. I got lots of good feedback from you guys regarding the last few chapters, so please keep it coming! What did you think about the little surprise introduction of the omni-blade, huh? ;) I played Mass Effect 3 months ago, and when I discovered the omni-blade, I couldn't help but wonder what Mass Effect 2 would be like if it existed in that part of the story. I'm working on Ch. VII now, and am about...eh...a little less than halfway done with it. Anyway, enjoy, and I'll be throwing another chapter at ya within the next few days!**

Commander Shepard stood in the dark comm room. The omni-tool data from Veetor was sent to the Illusive Man, and Shepard had made arrangements with Tali to send him any and all information on his debriefing when his condition was stabilized. A hologram of the Illusive Man appeared in the center of the room, removed the cigarette from his mouth, and began to speak:

"Excellent work on Freedom's Progress, Shepard. The quarians forwarded their data from Veetor's debriefing. Nothing new, but it's a surprising olive branch considering our history. You and I have different methods, but I can't argue with your results."

Shepard crossed his arms:

"It helps when you don't stab people in the back. A radical idea for Cerberus I'm sure, but an effective one. I would even go as far as to say that playing nice once in a while might be beneficial to your cause."

"Diplomacy is great when it works, Shepard, but difficult when everyone already perceives you as a threat. But more importantly, you confirmed the Collectors were behind the abductions."

"Why do I get the feeling you knew about them already, Illusive Man? This would only 'confirm' that the Collectors were behind the abductions on Freedom's Progress unless you had other data."

"I had suspicions, but needed concrete proof. The Collectors are enigmatic at best. They periodically travel to the Terminus systems, looking to gather seemingly unimportant items or specimens, usually in exchange for their technology. When their transactions are complete, they disappear as quickly as they arrived, back beyond the unmapped Omega-4 relay. Until now, we had no evidence of direct aggression by the Collectors. And I believe this does confirm the Collectors were behind the other abductions, Shepard. The methods they used, the lack of signs of battle? Their methods were clearly applied to the other colonies as well."

"True. But I know you're holding something back. How do you know the Reapers are involved?"

"The council and the alliance want to believe that the Reaper threat died with Sovereign, but you and I know better. I won't wait until the Reapers are on the march. We need to take the fight to them."

"If we're going to win this war, I'm going to need an army, or a really good team. I can't do this alone."

"I've already compiled a list of soldiers, scientists, and mercenaries. You'll get the dossiers on the best of them. Finding them and convincing them to work with you could be challenging, but you're a natural leader. I'll continue to track the activities of the Collectors. When they make their next appearance, I'll notify you and your team. Be ready."

Shepard didn't want a new team; he wanted his old friends. More than anything, he wanted Ashley with him. She had supported him two years ago, and hoped that she would do the same now.

"Keep your list, I want people I trust- the ones who helped me stop Saren and the geth."

"That was two years ago, Commander. Most of them have moved on…or their allegiances have changed."

Though keeping his composure, doubt crept into his mind when he heard the term "moved on." A pit formed in his throat. He wanted to find Ashley more than anything, but didn't want the Illusive Man to know about his relationship with the Normandy's gunnery chief. Instead, he chose to ask about an old friend:

"Do you have any information on the whereabouts of Garrus Vakarian?"

The Illusive Man shook his head.

"The turian disappeared a few months after you were declared dead. Even we haven't been able to locate him."

The Commander let out a barely audible sigh:

"Okay, I get it. They're unavailable."

"You're a leader, Shepard. You'll get what you need."

"Alright. You worry about the Collectors, and I'll assemble my team."

"Good. Two things before you go. First, head to Omega and find Dr. Mordin Solus. He's a brilliant salarian scientist. Our intelligence suggests that he may know how to counteract the Collectors' paralyzing seeker swarms."

Shepard re-crossed his arms in annoyance:

"Jesus, I haven't even started, and you're already telling me what to do."

"I'm giving you directions, Shepard; what you do with them is up to you. I'm sure you'll make the right decision."

"Alright, what's the other thing?"

"I've found a pilot you might like for your travels. I hear he's one of the best. Someone you can trust."

The Commander turned around as the door to the comm room hissed open, and stood in bewilderment at the man who stood before him.

"Hey Commander, just like old times, huh?"

Shepard felt an immediate sense of relief. Joker was safe, and looking better than ever. Moreover, the man could walk. The Normandy's former pilot was born with a brittle bone disease which rendered him almost immobile, but here he was, keeping pace with his CO (albeit with a slight limp) down the hallway of the Cerberus station.

"I can't believe it's you, Joker! How've you been?"

"Never better. And look who's talking! I saw you get spaced."

"Got lucky, but with a lot of strings attached I guess. How'd you get here?"

"It all fell apart without you, Commander. Everything you stirred up during our last misson…the Council just wanted it gone. The team was broken up, the records were sealed, and I was grounded. The Alliance took away the one thing that mattered to me, so I turned to Cerberus."

Shepard frowned, both at the mistreatment of his team and pilot, and Joker's new employer.

"You really trust the Illusive Man?"

They approached a window to what appeared to be a large room, though it was dark and Shepard couldn't make out what was in it.

"I don't trust anyone who makes more than I do, but they're not all bad. Brought you back from the dead, let me fly- and there's this they only told me last night."

Shepard's mouth hung open as the lights in the large room came on one by one. There, before his eyes, was his beloved ship, with a large black decal on the side that read, "SR-2"

_If there was ever a time to cue the corny epic soundtrack, now would be it…_Shepard restrained a chuckle.

Joker turned to Shepard, and cracked a smile:

"It's good to be home, huh, Commander?"

Shepard grinned and put a hand on his old friend's shoulder.

"Guess we'll have to give her a name, Joker…"


	7. VII: Rounds

**VII:** **Rounds**

**12/1: Here's Ch. 7 guys! I had half of it done for a while, but with finals coming up in a few weeks, my writing pace slowed a bit. Even so, here is the next chapter, before the one-week mark as promised. Reviews and feedback PMs are always appreciated! Thanks for reading!**

**P.S: Bonus points to anyone who can identify the song lyrics without being a dick and looking them up on google hahaha…**

John Shepard found himself in a difficult position. The Illusive Man, it seemed, was right. The Collectors were behind the abductions, and likely working with the Reapers, but to what end? The questions ran rampant in Shepard's mind, coupled with thoughts of Ashley and Garrus. The turian had become Shepard's closest friend despite inter-species tension resulting from the First Contact War, and would be an invaluable asset to the team if they were able to locate him.

The SR-2 Normandy had the same layout as the old SR-1, but Cerberus had installed a few upgrades of their own to it. The drive core was more powerful, and a combat AI known as EDI was installed. Though EDI could not take control of the ship, Shepard had his own reservations about having an AI aboard, as did Joker.

After Freedom's Progress, he had ordered a quick stop at the Citadel in order to pick up some supplies. Using Cerberus's ample financial resources, he had purchased some weapons, ammo, armor for him and his crew, and upgrades. Stopping off at his favorite shop, he had used his own funds in combination with store credit to purchase eight bottles of the Macallan 25 whiskey, a personal favorite of his.

_Looks like this mission's gonna be a long one, Johnny. Better stock up while you can_, he had thought to himself.

As he often did when he needed some alone time, Shepard headed down to the Normandy's weight room for a good, long workout. Rare were the moments where someone was not talking to him because they needed something done, so he had always made it a point to use the spare time for something beneficial. The endorphins released during his workouts had a magical effect of alleviating stress, and he cherished the sacred ritual of the post-workout shower. He was very much looking forward to some quiet time in his cabin, and hell, maybe some sleep, if he was lucky. Approaching the weight bench, Shepard began to pile plate after plate on the bar, stopping at 305 lbs; enough to break a sweat, but not enough that he would need a spotter. The gravity of the weight room resembled that of Earth in order to ensure that the numbers on the plates displayed the correct weight. Failure to take gravitational forces into consideration when lifting weights offworld could, and often did, result in injuries. Shepard had learned this the hard way.

Throwing some chalk on his palms, he lay down on the bench and fired off 15 reps in quick succession. After five sets of bench and 3 sets of bicep curls, Shepard turned his attention to the heavy bag in the far corner of the room.

_Hello old friend, it's been a while…_

Shepard grinned and went to work on the heavy bag, throwing a series of jabs, crosses, and haymakers with blinding speed. Every punch thrown by the Commander sent the bag reeling, such was the power of the man. After a solid half hour of thoroughly pulverizing the heavy bag, he walked out of the weight room into the shuttle bay, and headed to the elevator. Once inside, Shepard tapped the button for his quarters, and reveled in the excitement of taking a long, hot shower, then sitting down with a glass of his favorite whiskey while maybe reading some dossiers. In a cruel moment of irony, the ship's AI spoke:

"Commander, Ms. Lawson would like to have a word with you in her quarters when you have a moment."

Shepard swore under his breath. It seemed that he would have to cut his shower short. Though being as busy a man as he was, he was used to frequent interruption, and reminded himself that this would likely not the last time. It also reminded him that his rounds with the crew needed to be done.

"Thanks EDI. Tell her I'll be in her quarters in about 20 minutes."

"Of course, Commander."

A few seconds later, the elevator arrived at the top floor, Shepard's quarters. Truth be told, he wasn't particularly thrilled with the idea of having his quarters on a different floor than the rest of the crew, especially when they were considerably larger than any of the ship's other quarters. In his mind, he was no better or more important than the rest of the crew. His strength in leadership revolved around his closeness with those under his command. Shepard had always made a point of being close with those he led for many reasons; for one, he genuinely cared for his crew; they were under his care and he had a duty as their CO to protect them; secondly, Shepard believed in the power of the trust that existed between leader and subordinate when the subordinate saw their leader as an equal, as a person with flaws. The idea of having separate quarters irked him for fear that it might alienate him from the crew. He was not someone to be put on a pedestal, and was no more a hero than those who fought at his side. Unfortunately, it seemed there was no alternative, and he was forced to stay in the excessively spacious captain's suite.

Shepard entered his quarters as the door opened with a hiss, and stowed his workout bag under his desk. He slipped off his training shoes at the foot of his bed, marched up the steps and headed to the bathroom. After a quick, but scalding hot shower, Shepard emerged from the bathroom with steam emanating from his body and dog tags, leaving a small trail of water drops in his wake, and walked over to the closet. He threw on a white Cerberus t-shirt and black pants and headed back down to the middle floor. Taking a sharp right upon exiting the elevator, the Commander circled the mess area until he arrived at the door of Miranda's quarters. Preparing himself for the Cerberus operative's icy demeanor, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He heard a muffled "Come in!" and pressed a button on the door's panel, entering the room. Miranda turned her attention away from her terminal and looked up at Shepard, gesturing for him to sit down while crossing her legs.

"EDI told me you wanted to see me, Ms. Lawson. What can I do for you?"

"Nothing, Commander. I must admit I'm quite impressed. You handled our assignment on Freedom's Progress quite well, for the most part."

"For the most part?"

"I would have preferred to take the Quarian in for questioning, but-"

"-Ms. Lawson, Veetor would have been useless to us. He was in shock, and it will take a while for him to fully recover. He wouldn't have been able to tell us anything at the moment that we wouldn't get from his omni-tool."

"Yes, but when he recovered, I wanted to-"

"-I've been in contact with Tali, Ms. Lawson. I had her send a recording, as well as the transcripts from Veetor's briefing to us and the Illusive Man. There was nothing new, but I wanted to make sure we didn't miss anything. Veetor needed to return to the Flotilla. His instability would have been amplified by the fact that he was aboard a Cerberus ship, and then we wouldn't get anything out of him."

Miranda was surprised. The man had found a way to appease everyone. This kind of diplomacy she had not expected from a man who only a few hours ago, had single-handedly torn a YMIR mech to shreds with his omni-blade after a stupid and suicidal blind charge. The man was more intelligent than she had given him credit for. Maybe two years of hard work was starting to pay off after all…

"Oh, I hadn't realized that. I was concerned that we wouldn't have any kind of debrief data from Veetor, which was why I recommended we take him with us."

"I wasn't going to let them take him unless we knew everything the quarians did. While I'm here, I was wondering if you had a spare minute?"

"No doubt you've got a lot of questions, Shepard. Cerberus isn't what people say it is. If there is any way I can allay some of your concerns with Cerberus, I would be happy to."

Now it was Shepard's turn to be surprised. Miranda was being quite civil with him. Nevertheless, his guard remained up. The Illusive Man had no doubt caused this small shift in her demeanor in an effort to earn his trust.

"I'd like to know more about the Lazarus Project from the person in charge."

"To be honest, Commander, I wasn't exactly in charge. The Illusive Man was. I headed the project team, yes, but I had a fair share of red tape to deal with. If you want to know more, you should ask him."

"I doubt I would be privy to that information if he kept certain things from you. But enough about that. I have a few questions about Cerberus itself."

"Go ahead. What do you want to know?"

"I know what we're doing here, but what's Cerberus's long-term goals?"

"The advancement of the human race. Nothing more, nothing less. The salarians have the STG, the asari have their legendary commandos; Cerberus is humanity's answer to those organizations."

Shepard frowned.

"But those organizations are regulated by their respective governments, Lawson. Who keeps Cerberus in check?"

"Nobody. We're privately funded and our backers trust the Illusive Man to make the right decisions. But he's very clear about our goals: protect humanity and serve its advancement."

"Are you military, political, or both?"

"Cerberus has several divisions: political, military, scientific…but we're all working towards the same goal. The teams you encountered before your death were part of our military division for the most part. But not all operations run under the same protocols. We try not to get bogged down in bureaucracy or formality."

"That explains some things. I noticed you don't have any rank assignments. What kind of resources does Cerberus have?"

"We're very well-funded, though I doubt anybody but the Illusive Man knows exactly how well. Our resources aren't unlimited though. Reviving you and rebuilding the Normandy was a significant investment, and a significant risk. We're all hoping you can do the impossible here, Shepard, no pressure."

Shepard nervously scratched his head. He didn't need any reminders of the stakes of this mission. More to the point, it seemed like Miranda had almost tried to make a joke…

_A little too sensitive of a subject for humor, but points for effort…_he thought to himself.

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me. Tell me a little about yourself, Miranda."

Miranda paused for a moment, as if she were debating whether or not to humor his request. After a brief moment, she decided to entertain the question.

"Well, I suppose that's fair. I spent the last two things learning everything there is to know about you."

Shepard cocked an eyebrow.

"Everything? Is Cerberus's file on me really that extensive?"

"Well, when you become the savior of the galaxy, your story and accomplishments become quite public. But Cerberus spent a lot of time researching about you so we could put you back together without changing you. So yes, Commander, our file on you is quite extensive. Even your relationship with gunnery chief Ashley Williams is detailed in our reports."

_Shit._

Shepard's eyes widened at the mention of Ash. He was caught between being surprised and irritated at Cerberus's knowledge of his personal life. He cleared his throat and decided it was time to change the subject.

"I believe we were talking about you, Ms. Lawson."

"Quick to change topic of discussion, are we Commander?"

She paused, slowly rose out of her seat, and slowly walked over to a table opposite her desk, picking up a data pad as she spoke."

"Well, you should probably know that I've had extensive genetic modification. Not my personal decision, but I make the most of it. It's one of the reasons the Illusive Man handpicked me. I'm very good at just about anything I choose to do."

Shepard fought the strong urge to roll his eyes.

"You certainly don't lack for confidence."

Miranda placed a hand on her hip.

"It's just a fact. My reflexes, my strength, my looks…they're all designed to give me an edge. No point in hiding from it. It's the reason I'm chosen to oversee the most dangerous, risky, and technically demanding operations Cerberus undertakes. And it's why I was assigned to you. It's my job to make sure you succeed, Shepard."

Shepard ran a hand over his stubble in a moment of thought. He could see a bit of logic in that. Despite his modesty, he could begin to understand how an individual who was designed to be great would have a right to acknowledge it. He crossed his arms.

"What level of genetic modification are we talking about?"

"It's very thorough. Physically, I'm superior in many ways. I heal quickly and will likely live half again as long as the average human. My biotic abilities are also very advanced…for a human."

_So I noticed, _Shepard thought to himself.

"Add to that the best training and education money can buy, and well, it's pretty impressive, really."

"Sounds like you were designed to be perfect."

"Maybe, but I'm not. I'm still human, Shepard, I make mistakes like anyone else. And when I do, the consequences are severe. Everyone expects a lot from someone with my…abilities."

Shepard didn't want to prod any further. Despite her emotionless body language, he somehow got the feeling that this was a sensitive subject. More importantly, he had to finish his rounds with the crew, and his conversation had put him a bit behind schedule. There were a lot of new faces for him to familiarize himself with, and he wanted to make sure that he made the most of his time during the trip to Omega.

"Thanks for the information, Lawson. I should get back to my rounds; I'll talk to you later."

"Of course Commander, whatever you need." Miranda said with a tad more enthusiasm than she had intended.

Shepard exited the XO's quarters, leaving Miranda standing alone. Silently, she returned to her work. She sat down in her desk chair, letting out a small sigh as she did so. She had shared more information with the Commander than she had wanted to during their discussion, but after a bit of thought, decided that if it would make working with him easier, it was a necessary sacrifice. He had become much less hostile with her and Jacob since the shuttle ride off of the Lazarus station, and though it was clear that he didn't entirely trust either of them, he didn't let his grudge against Cerberus evolve into a blind hatred that would make cohesion impossible, and at the end of the day, that was all that mattered. Besides, she didn't entirely trust the man either. Not that she trusted anyone to begin with. About an hour and a half later, after reading several dossiers, she decided it was time to draft a mission report for Freedom's Progress. The Illusive Man knew the gist of what had happened down there, but it was standard procedure to compose a detailed record of what the team had encountered on the abandoned colony. Opening a new document on her terminal, she began typing, but stopped when the terminal beeped, signaling an incoming message. It was a mission report that had been sent from the Commander.

This was strange. She had never known a CO to write his own mission reports during her considerable tenure with Cerberus. She opened the document, read it, and satisfied with its contents, forwarded it to the Illusive Man. Miranda had a considerable amount of paperwork at any given time, but Shepard's mission report had cut her workload in half.

_Seems like the man really does work as hard as they say. _

Miranda turned her attention to the video feeds from the bugs in Shepard's room, and sure enough, the man was typing away at his terminal, with his N7 dog tags and a glass of whiskey at his side. She could hear some old music playing in the background…

_"Fear, and panic in the air_

_I want to be free from desolation and despair_

_And I feel like everything I sow_

_Is being swept away, well I refuse to let you go…"_

After a few seconds of watching Shepard and listening to the music, Miranda found herself tapping her foot against the floor. She wasn't sure who the artist was, but had to give credit to Shepard for having a decent taste in music. Switching off the feed, the black-haired beauty turned in her chair and stared out the window. Maybe the man wouldn't be such a terrible pain in the ass to work with after all.


	8. VIII: You're Working Too Hard

**VIII:** **You're Working Too Hard**

Shepard made no effort to hide it: he despised Omega. From the minute the Normandy had docked and he had stepped off the ship, Shepard felt suffocated by the suffering, corruption, and disease that plagued the station, and judging by the looks on Miranda and Jacob's faces, they shared his sentiments. If he was being brutally honest, Omega was a shit-hole, both superficially and at its core. Nonetheless, he had a job to do here; two to be exact, and he was going to make sure that they got done so as to avoid the possibility of future visits. Taking a deep breath of the air that he was certain would significantly lower his life expectancy, he calmly began to make his way towards the exit with Miranda and Jacob in tow, when a batarian stopped him.

"Welcome to Omega…Shepard."

Unbeknownst to the batarian, Shepard's hand began to hover dangerously close to his carnifex pistol at the mention of his name. The batarian's vocal patterns implied that he had been expecting the Commander's arrival, and he didn't like the sound of it. Despite his inner tension, Shepard's expression remained calm;

"You know who I am?"

The batarian chuckled deeply.

"Everyone knows you. Besides, we had you tagged the minute you entered the Terminus systems. You're not as subtle as you think. Aria wants to know what brings a dead Spectre to Omega. I suggest you go to Afterlife now and present yourself."

Shepard frowned.

"Cut the attitude. I'm not here to cause problems."

"You have a reputation for things exploding around you, Shepard. You can't blame her for wanting to keep an eye on you. Afterlife. Now."

Shepard was starting to lose his patience. The longer he was delayed in finding Archangel and Mordin, the more colonists were lost to the Collectors. Miranda began tapping her foot impatiently.

"Look pal, Miranda, Jacob, and I have things to take care of. I'll stay out of Aria's way if she stays out of mine. I don't have time for this."

The batarian cracked his knuckles.

"You don't have a choice, Shepard. Aria doesn't let anyone operate on her station unless she clears them. Now you can either walk over to afterlife, or I'll physically drag you and these two Cerberus brats there myself. The choice is yours, but I'd recommend you don't make this painful for yourself."

Miranda's mouth opened to respond to the threat, but Shepard had had enough, and beat her to the punch.

_NO ONE threatens me or my team…_

His eyes darkened.

"If you _ever_ threaten me again or lay a hand on my team, I'll ram my shotgun down your throat, and make modern art with your brains on the wall behind you. Understood?"

The batarian attempted to respond, but couldn't, nauseated by the nature and sincerity of the threat. Shepard stormed through the door towards Afterlife, Miranda and Jacob in close pursuit.

Miranda couldn't believe what had come out of the Commander's mouth. She tried to shake the feeling, but couldn't. The threat sent a shiver down her spine, and he wasn't even addressing her.

_He certainly knows how to get respect…even if it is through fear._

He certainly didn't take threats lightly either. Miranda was puzzled by how protective the Commander was of her and Jacob. The man barely knew them, yet had promised to obliterate the batarian if he dared touch either of them. Shepard's file had noted that he was a natural leader, but his protective instincts, if that's what they were, were unlike anyone's she'd ever seen.

As she followed Shepard towards the nightclub, something else began to tug at her mind. The chill from Shepard's threat had subsided, but she couldn't shut it out; for the first time in many years, she felt…inferior. The man exuded a natural confidence that commanded the attention and respect of people, all without being cocky or coming off as arrogant. She wondered how a man who had grown up an orphan in the streets of Washington, DC with no guidance had attained this…_greatness. _

_All without being genetically tailored for it…_

Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed Shepard had stopped at the edge of the balcony, overlooking the dark, bleak city. With a look of disgust on his face, he leaned on the railing with both hands and exhaled loudly. Miranda approached him from behind and stood next to him, arms crossed, and turned towards him.

"Omega…what a piss-hole. I've been here a few times for business. I feel like I need a shower afterwards…in addition to normal decontamination."

Shepard's anger briefly faded, and the tiniest of chuckles escaped his mouth.

"My sentiments exactly. I suppose we should get moving; if we stand in place too long we might catch something."

Exhausting the rest of his sense of humor, a determined look returned to his face, and his eyes sharpened. Shepard motioned for his squad to follow him. Miranda and Jacob nodded, falling into line behind the Commander as he approached the entrance to Afterlife. After being cleared by security, Shepard briskly walked into the nightclub. Seeing Jacob ogling the asari dancers, Miranda rolled her eyes. She turned to Shepard, expecting to see a similar sight, but instead saw him looking straight ahead, focused on finding Aria.

_At least one of them thinks with the correct head…_she thought to herself.

The three headed up a set of stairs guarded by a mercenary, and were stopped by another batarian guard upon entering an enclosed balcony. A lone asari stood by the couch with her back to them, surrounded by more guards. Still not facing them, she spoke as the batarian approached them.

"That's close enough for now."

The batarian activated his omni-tool and glanced up at Shepard.

"Stay still."

Shepard frowned. Whoever this Aria was, she was becoming a real pain in the ass.

_Oh, for the love of god…_

"Like hell."

"Just comply, and there won't be a problem."

Shepard grabbed his pistol from his hip mount.

"If you're looking for weapons, you're not doing a great job."

The batarian grunted in annoyance. Shepard saw the asari's head turn slightly.

"Can't be too careful with dead Spectres. That could be anyone wearing your face."

Shepard crossed his arms and leaned on one hip.

"I assume you're Aria. I was told to talk to you by that witless batarian by the docks."

Miranda grinned inwardly. Shepard cleared his throat and continued.

"I'm on an urgent mission. Your little peons have wasted enough of my time, so I'll be quick. If you're in charge here, I'm not here to make trouble unless you make trouble for me. I need to find Mordin Solus and Archangel. Anything you can tell me about those two names?"

Aria motioned for Shepard to sit with her. Reluctantly, he complied. Aria looked at Shepard.

"All business I see. Mordin's a scientist. He runs a clinic in the slums of the quarantine zone, treating victims of the plague that the Vorcha brought and researching a cure. I like him. He's as likely to heal you as he is to shoot you. Former STG from what I hear. Just don't get him talking; he never shuts up."

Re-crossing her legs, Aria continued.

"As for Archangel, half of Omega is trying to find him as well. He's a local vigilante who has pissed off the Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Blood Pack merc groups. The mercs have eliminated his team, but are having trouble taking care of him. He's taken cover in a building, and he's got the high ground. Mercs have been recruiting local freelancers to help deal with him, but Archangel's good. He's killed thousands of them already. They have to cross some kind of bridge to get into the building, and he simply picks them off. The mercs are recruiting in one of the lower rooms downstairs. That would be the easiest way to get to him. You're free to go, just remember- don't _fuck_ with Aria."

Shepard frowned.

"I have similar rules as well. You might want to remind your staff of that."

Aria sneered as Shepard and his team turned on their heels and left.

After they exited the room and headed back downstairs onto the main floor of Afterlife, Shepard turned to address Miranda and Jacob.

"Okay, here's what we'll do. It seems as though time is of the essence in terms of finding Archangel. He may have killed dozens of mercs, but he's just one man, and we need to get him out of here alive. He'll be of no use to our team dead."

Miranda nodded.

"Understood, Commander. I was about to recommend it."

Jacob confirmed his understanding, and the Commander continued.

"We'll head for the recruiting room, and hopefully get some information on where we can get to Archangel. Stay sharp; I don't trust any of these mercs. Any questions?"

Neither replied.

"Alright. You know the plan, gang. Move out."

With that, Shepard turned briskly and walked over to the entrance to the recruiting room. A batarian in a Blue Suns uniform stood guard over the stairwell. Shepard calmly approached him.

"I hear you're recruiting."

The batarian grunted and pointed down the stairs.

"Why don't you step inside?"

Shepard nodded and walked down the stairs, Miranda and Jacob following closely behind. Miranda looked to her left and locked eyes with Jacob. His eyes seemed to ask the question of what they were getting themselves into. Her gaze begged the same question, and her train of thought was interrupted as the door hissed open. Snapping back into focus, she followed Shepard and Jacob in. Another batarian in Blue Suns armor looked up from his terminal and addressed the team.

"You three look like you could do some damage. Looking for a good fight?"

Shepard crossed his arms dismissively, playing up a false ego.

"Depends. This the place to go after Archangel?"

The batarian nodded.

"This is the place. Standard fee is five hundred credits each. You'll get paid when the job's done. If you die, your friends will not be able to collect your share. You'll need your own weapons and armor…but it looks like you've got that covered. And no, this does not make you a member of the Blue Suns, Eclipse, or the Blood Pack. You are a freelancer. Period. Any questions?"

"Where's the attack taking place?"

"Archangel's base of operations. Bastard's been hiding right under our noses. I can't tell you exactly where you're going, but we'll get you there."

Shepard cracked his knuckles.

"Just head to the transport depot outside the club. One of our boys will take you from there."

Shepard nodded and turned to leave. The doors opened and a young man no older than 17 entered the room. Shepard didn't like this. The kid was underage, and was certainly inexperienced.

_He'll be slaughtered like the rest of the mercs out there. _

As the young man began to ask if he had found the right place to sign up, Shepard grabbed the young man by the arm.

"You look a little young to be freelancing as a merc."

The young man stepped back, surprised by the stranger's concern for his age.

"I'm old enough! I grew up on Omega, I know how to use a gun."

Jacob looked at Shepard, then back at the young man.

"So does Archangel."

"I can handle myself. Besides, I just spent 50 credits on this pistol, and I want a chance to use it."

The young man had no time to react as Shepard snatched the pistol from his hand while simultaneously ejecting the thermal clip. He then handed the pistol back.

"Look kid, this is more trouble than it's worth. Go get your money back. Trust me, you'll thank me later."

The young man could only watch in bewilderment as the three marched back up the stairs and out of Afterlife.

The doors leading outside opened, and immediately felt refreshed. He hadn't realized it while inside, but the air quality in Afterlife was terrible, and complimented by the smell of cheap perfume and booze. The air outside, while still dense and impure, was welcome by him, Miranda, and Jacob. Purging his body of Afterlife air, he inhaled semi-deeply, and headed down to his right towards the transit hub.

_God, I'll never miss this place._

After a brief walk, the Commander approached a Blue Suns trooper leaning up against a sleek transit vehicle.

"I'm on the mission."

The batarian pushed himself into a standing position.

"I hope you're prepared. Archangel's been annihilating you freelancers."

Shepard, once again donning his improvised mercenary persona, formed a small sneer at the corner of his mouth.

"We're not your normal freelancers. Ready when you are."

With that, the batarian nodded, and the three entered the car.

The ride was relatively brief, and after a few minutes, they had landed. Jacob had sat in the front next to the batarian driver, and Miranda had taken seat next to Shepard in the back. The door swung open, and the car's occupants quickly exited. A Blue Suns officer stood at the entrance of the building they had landed at. As they approached him, he crossed his arms and grunted.

"It's about time they sent me someone who looks like they can actually fight."

Shepard glanced over at the beauty standing next to him.

_If you only knew, buddy. _

"The recruiter tell you three what we're up against?"

Shepard shook his head.

"No. He was pretty vague."

The batarian rubbed his chin.

"We wouldn't get many hires if people knew the truth. Archangel's holed up in a building at the end of the boulevard over there. He's got superior position and the high ground, and the only way to the building is over a very exposed bridge. It's a killing ground. That said, he's getting tired; making mistakes. We'll have him soon enough."

"You mercs have a plan?"

"A small team is waiting to infiltrate his hideout. But we need to draw Archangel's fire to they can move in."

"And that's where we come in?"

"Exactly. You'll be on a distraction team. Head straight over the bridge and keep Archangel busy so the infiltration team can sneak in behind him."

Jacob's eyes narrowed as he stepped towards the batarian.

"Sounds like a suicide mission if you ask me."

The batarian shrugged.

"Pretty much. But you three look like you can handle it. Head up to the boulevard and get to the third barricade. Talk to sergeant Cathka. He'll tell you when you're clear to go in. Watch yourself on the boulevard though. Archangel's killed nearly a hundred out there already."

Shepard nodded and began heading up the steps to the boulevard, Miranda and Jacob on his sides. Jacob turned to the Commander.

"Well, we might have a way in, but getting out could be interesting."

"Fair point, but we don't have much info, so we'll have to improvise a bit. Let's get find him first, then we'll figure out a way to get back."

The three navigated through the merc-infested boulevard, crossing paths with Jaroth, head of Eclipse, and Garm, the krogan leader of the Blood Pack, neither proving to be very helpful in terms of new information or battle plans. Eventually they came to an outpost occupied by several man, an important-looking Blue Suns trooper, and another batarian, who was immersed in the process of repairing a light gunship. Shepard approached the Blue Suns trooper.

"Cathka?"

The trooper motioned to the batarian working on the gunship. Shepard moved past him and approached the batarian, who looked up from his repairs, waved the rest of the group off, and de-activated his welding shield on his helmet before addressing the three:

"It's sergeant Cathka to you. You must be the group Salkie mentioned. You're just in time."

Shepard was confused.

"Salkie?"

"You met him when you were dropped off. He radioed to say you were coming. You three kinda stand out from the rest of the freelancers. Anyway…the infiltration team is about to give Archangel the signal. Archangel won't know what hit him. Any questions?"

Cathka grabbed a lighter that was sitting next to an electrical conduit, and sparked up a cigarette.

Shepard crossed his arms.

"Will you be leading the assault?"

Cathka scoffed.

"Ha! Tarak doesn't pay me to fight. I just plan the attacks and fix the damn gunship. You freelancers get the privilege of doing all the dirty work."

Cathka's terminal buzzed with the signal from a fellow Blue Suns team, and ordered a group of freelancers to join them before continuing.

"Archangel's got quite a surprise waiting for him. But that means no more waiting for me. Gotta get her back to a hundred percent before Tarak decides he needs her again."

He pressed a button on the side of his helmet, activating his welding shield. As Cathka returned his attention to his terminal, Shepard grabbed the conduit and walked up behind him with a cold look in his eyes:

"You're working too hard sergeant."

With that, he jammed the conduit into the back of Cathka's suit, sending the batarian's body into frantic spasms before collapsing on the floor, dead.

Miranda tried to contain her surprise as it had happened, but soon realized what the Commander was doing. Stepping over the body, she turned to Shepard:

"Good thinking. It'll be easier to take down if worse comes to worst and we actually have to face it."

Shepard nodded, turned, and headed for the barrier with Jacob and Miranda in pursuit. As soon as they cleared the barrier leading to the bridge, Archangel appeared from behind cover and fired a single round from his rifle, vaporizing the head of the freelancer closest to Shepard. Cracking his knuckles, the Commander looked back at his team.

"Alright gang, let's give these mercs a surprise of their own."

Miranda let a small smirk escape the corner of her lips, and the team set off, quickly mowing down the freelancers crossing the bridge with little resistance. The Commander had taken a few rounds from Archangel during the crossing, but none had pierced his armor. Upon entering the building in which Archangel was dug in, Shepard spotted a lone merc attempting to set a bomb in the lobby area. Signaling his team to stay still, he silently approached the merc from behind, grabbed the man's head, and snapped the his neck like a twig, causing another shiver to run up Miranda's spine.

They silently made their way up the stairs to the second level, but as soon as Shepard reached the top of the stairs, a merc trying to cut his way into the door at the end of the hall immediately spotted them. Reaching for his assault rifle, Shepard sent a controlled burst through the merc's head, pinning him against the door as he lifelessly slid down, his head leaving a trail of blood as his body sank. Shepard moved the man aside and muscled the door open. Turning the corner, Archangel came into view. The armored crusader was in the middle of lining up a shot when he noticed the team's presence. Before they could address him, Archangel put up a hand, signaling them to wait as he aimed and blew another merc away. Satisfied with the result, he turned to Shepard and began walking towards him. He stopped by a bench, sat down, and removed his helmet.

Shepard couldn't believe it.

"Shepard, I thought you were dead."

The Commander's face lit up. It was the first familiar face he had seen since it resurrection.

"Garrus! How've you been? What are you doing here?"

The turian chuckled.

"Just keeping my skills sharp, old friend. A little target practice."

"You okay? Something seems off."

Garrus looked down at the ground, then back up at his friend.

"Been better, but damn, it's good to see you again Shepard. Killing mercs is hard work, especially on my own."

"What are you doing here on Omega?"

"Got fed up with the bureaucratic gridlock and political bullshit on the citadel. I figured I could do more good out here on my own. At least it's not hard to find criminals here. I just point my gun and shoot."

Shepard chuckled. The dry humor of his old friend was not lost on him.

"How the hell did you manage to piss off every major merc organization in the Terminus Systems?"

"Well it wasn't easy, I really had to work at it. I'm surprised they actually teamed up to fight me. They must really hate me."

"I see. So when did you start calling yourself 'Archangel'?"

"It's just a name the locals gave me for my service. I don't really mind it, but it's just 'Garrus' to you."

Shepard smirked.

"Or 'Dumbass.' I personally prefer that alias over your new one. You nailed me good a couple of times back there."

Garrus's mandibles twitched.

"Yeah, but they were just concussive rounds. I didn't want the mercs to think something was up. I gotta admit though…I did have a bit of fun tagging you a couple of times."

Miranda scoffed and rolled her eyes, but Garrus paid her no attention.

Shepard and Garrus laughed heartily.

"I bet you did, you sadistic bastard. Anyways, we're here now, but I doubt getting out will be as easy."

"No it won't. That bridge has saved my life…funneling all those witless idiots into scope, but it works both ways. They'll slaughter us if we try to use it."

A look of frustration played across Miranda's face. Arms crossed, she approached Garrus.

"So you suggest we sit here and wait for them to take us out?"

Garrus tried to ignore his growing disdain for the Cerberus Operative.

"It's not all that bad. That bridge has held them so far, and with the three of you…we can hold this location, wait for a crack in their defenses, and take our chances. It's not perfect, but it's a plan."

Shepard stepped in in an attempt to defuse the growing tension.

"If we fight as a team, we'll hold them off."

Garrus nodded.

"You're right. Their numbers won't help them in here, anyway."

The turian picked up his trusty sniper rifle and made his way over to the window, bringing the scope up to his eye.

"Let's see what they're up to."

After a brief moment of silence, Garrus grunted.

"Hmm. Looks like they know their infiltration team failed. Here, take a look. Scouts. Eclipse, I think."

Shepard took the rifle from his old friend and peered down the sights. In addition to Eclipse Scouts, LOKI mechs were being deployed. Holding his breath, Shepard squeezed the trigger, dispatching one of the mechs.

"I think we're dealing with more than just scouts, but there's one less now."

Shepard smirked and handed the rifle back to Garrus, who looked down the scope a second time.

"Indeed. We better get ready. I'll stay up here. I can do a lot more damage from this vantage point. As for you…you do what you do best. Just like old times eh Johnny Boy?"

Shepard nodded. Miranda cocked an eyebrow, surprised that the Commander let Garrus get away with calling him "Johnny Boy." She also noticed Shepard's voice get minutely softer as a rare half-smile played across his face:

"Just like old times, Garrus."

The battle that ensued was extremely one-sided. Shepard had ordered Jacob to stay with Garrus, and had taken Miranda downstairs with him to get up-close and personal with the mercs. Miranda found herself struggling to keep pace with the Commander, despite her biotic abilities. In combat, the man was a blur, and despite being hit in the thigh with a stray round from an Eclipse trooper, jumped into the middle of the fray with no hesitation, taking out scouts with accurate bursts from his assault rifle.

Miranda had sworn loudly when Garm, the krogan leader of the Blood Pack took out her shields with a well-placed shotgun blast. Shepard had heard her from where he stood in cover, and charged the krogan, taking several bullets in the process. Miranda could only watch as the fearsome merc was torn to shreds by Shepard's omni-blade. Before Miranda could finish yelling at the Commander for his blatant recklessness, Shepard turned and walked back up the stairs towards Garrus and Jacob, ignoring her entirely. Fuming, Miranda had stormed up the stairs after him.

Shepard turned into the room, but as soon as he crossed over the threshold, the gunship that Cathka had been working on came into view.

_NO!_

It was too late. Despite the Commander's best efforts, he couldn't reach his friend in time. Garrus was gunned down by the ship's cannon, and collapsed in a growing pool of his own blood.

"_GARRUS!" _

In that split second, Shepard's expression had gone from anguish to primeval rage.

"Lawson! Overload it. NOW!"

Peering out of cover, Miranda overloaded the ship's circuitry, causing it to rattle in midair. Shepard pulled his grenade launcher off its back mount, slid into cover behind a couch, and fired. He had made his shot count; the round made impact with the port wing, sending the gunship into a downward spin. After a few stories of falling, the gunship met its demise at the foot of the building.

Stowing the grenade launcher on his back, Shepard sprinted over to Garrus. The turian was badly wounded and coughing up alarming amounts of blood. Miranda and Jacob could hear the crack in the Commander's voice.

"Lawson, Taylor...someone…medi-gel now!"

Jacob looked over at Miranda, who seemed to be ignoring both of them. After a few seconds that lasted years in Shepard's mind, Jacob hustled over to Garrus, dispensing all his available medi-gel onto the turian's wounds. Shepard flipped the switch on his comm link.

"Joker this is Shepard. Garrus is down here and he's hurt badly. We need IMMEDIATE evac, over!"

"Roger, Commander. Shuttle has been dispatched and will be at your present location in 45 sec, over."

"Copy."

Miranda turned her attention to her omni-tool's data, pretending not to notice the Commander's fury-ridden glare upon her…


	9. IX: Discrepancies

**IX:** **Discrepancies**

**12/25: Hey guys! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all! Here's a present for you guys; a new chapter! It's short, but it's got a whole lot of dialogue that I think you guys will enjoy. I apologize with the time taken between my last 2 updates. With the semester coming to a close and the holidays on approach, I didn't have much time to write, but winter break should give me a decent amount of free time to get some more on paper. Anyways, review if you have a minute to spare, and enjoy!**

Shepard stood in the doorway of the Normandy SR-2's medical bay. In front of him stood Dr. Karin Chakwas, the ship's chief medical officer and a trusted friend. His eyes shifted their attention between her face and his unconscious, bloody friend who lay on a table 20 feet behind her. On the outside, The Commander's expression remained neutral. How he felt, however, was an entirely different story. He had just seen his closest friend mowed down by a merc gunship, and while Garrus was still alive, he had sustained critical injuries, and while Shepard was no doctor, one look at the turian told him all he needed to know: Garrus Vakarian was barely hanging on. Shepard had felt his fair share of anxiety and grief in his life, but he had never had so much trouble keeping it in. His mind was flooded with an amalgam of different thoughts regarding what had just transpired. On one hand, he was dealing with the anxiety brought on by the grave nature of Garrus's injury. On the other, there was…

Lawson.

The Cerberus second-in-command hadn't spoken her refusal to help the injured turian; rather, she had simply ignored Shepard's urgent demand for medi-gel. As if the action wasn't infuriating enough, he had grown even more frustrated trying to figure out _why_ she refused to help. Despite contemplating all possible options on the shuttle ride back to the Normandy, he simply couldn't think of a logical reason why Miranda would have ignored him, a sharp contrast to her normally rational and well-reasoned thought process. He needed to get to the bottom of this, and decided that after he finished talking to Chakwas, he was going to have a word with Ms. Lawson.

After a long, deafening silence, Chakwas spoke:

"Jacob's application of medi-gel slowed the flow of blood Shepard, but he's lost a lot of it. I'll do what I can, but I'm not sure if Garrus will survive the injuries he sustained."

Shepard cleared his throat in order to maintain an even tone.

"I know, Doctor. Just please, do the best you can."

Chakwas nodded.

"You know I will, Commander. Garrus is a good friend of both of us. I don't want you to get your hopes up, but the old bastard is as stubborn as you are. Just remember that."

Shepard chuckled.

"That he is. Let me know if I can help in any way, alright?"

"Thank you Commander, but I think I have everything I need. Now if you'll excuse me, this procedure will take several hours. I'm sure you have other duties to attend to."

"Right. I should let you work. Thank you Doctor Chakwas."

With that, Shepard turned quickly and headed immediately for the elevator. Mashing the button for the third floor, he tapped his foot impatiently against the floor while the painfully slow elevator took him to the crew quarters. He walked briskly out of the elevator and stormed towards the door to Miranda's office, ignoring the dozen pairs of eyes on him. As he opened the door, Miranda looked up from her terminal, surprised by Shepard's heavy foot falls.

"Lawson, you and I need to have a serious talk."

Miranda looked genuinely confused, but remained calm.

"There's a lot to do, Shepard, maybe another-"

Shepard cut her off.

"No. Whatever you're doing now, it can wait. You need to tell me what happened on Omega."

Miranda had been avoiding this. Feebly, she attempted to lie.

"I was out of medi-gel."

"Bullshit. We each have three applications worth of medi-gel on us at all times. You were right next to me during our entire mission out there, and not once were you injured in any way. Why didn't you help Garrus?"

Miranda closed her terminal.

"Because he would have been a detriment to this mission. He would have distracted you and we need you focused."

Shepard couldn't believe what he had just heard. This was ludicrous. He tried to prevent his voice from raising, and while it worked to some effect, he was absolutely furious.

"So you were just going to let him bleed out on the floor? The man fought alongside us!"

"Shepard, Garrus Vakarian is a friend of yours, and any personal friendships or relationships that you might have while serving on this mission would only draw your focus away from what really matters."

Shepard had had it. His voice raised ever so slightly, but it was enough to let Miranda know that she had angered him.

"You want to know what distracts me from doing my job? People who try to fight me every step of the way. And if you need further clarification on this, Lawson, it's you! The main reason I was able to take down Sovereign and Saren was because I had a strong, tight-knit team, each of whom I trusted implicitly. Garrus was part of that team, and we need him."

"Shepard, for missions like this-"

"Can it, Lawson. You don't know the first thing about missions like this. So you brought a man back from the dead, maybe tortured a few hundred innocent aliens in your day? That's nothing compared to what we're up against, and I can say that because I've seen it firsthand. I've seen the destruction that a single Reaper can achieve, and I know that it takes a team that can rely on one another to destroy it. So don't ever, EVER question my methods again! Maybe you disagree, but let me remind you that even though I was your little science project, this mission is still under my command."

Miranda frowned.

"Fine, Commander, just know I don't approve of this."

"I don't give half a fuck what you do or don't approve, Miranda. Garrus is easily the best shot in the galaxy, a tactical genius, and more importantly, I can count on him to do the right thing. He's a hell of a lot better of a soldier than you, the way I see it. Now, since you've shit on your credibility by me, you are not coming on any missions unless I deem it absolutely necessary, unless you somehow manage to show me you can handle being on these missions, or until I figure out what to do with you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Miranda locked eyes with Shepard and tried her best to return his intimidating stare.

"Yes, _Commander._"

"Good. I'm not taking anyone out in the field unless I can trust them. Jacob and I will be leaving soon to recruit Mordin Solus. We will leave once Dr. Chakwas is done operating on Garrus, and while we are gone, Joker will have the deck. You will complete the mission report that I was going to file myself before I had to have this talk you, but Moreau will have administrative authority during this time. He was with me on the SR-1, and while he sometimes cracks stupid jokes, he knows how I run a ship, and he's earned my complete trust. See how this works?"

"Commander, you can't just-"

Again, Shepard cut her off.

"This isn't up for discussion, Miranda. I can, and will circumvent and redistribute your executive authorities as I see fit. You have attempted to sabotage one of the greatest assets available to us, and thus clearly cannot handle the responsibilities of Executive Officer. Let me worry about what distracts me from doing my job."

Before Miranda could respond, Shepard quickly turned and walked out the door. As the soundproof doors shut behind him, Miranda, in a rare and uncharacteristic display of anger, slammed her fists down on her desk.

"_FUCK!_"

She was absolutely furious. Why couldn't the stupid man see past his friendship with the turian? Clearly, Garrus Vakarian would serve as a huge distraction to their cause. And because of his blind loyalty to his friend, Miranda had been all but relegated from her position as XO. There was just no reasoning with this man!

But there was something else that bothered her. While she was angry at Shepard for stripping her of her administrative duties and bringing Garrus on board, something began to eat away at her; something far more visceral than this anger. While she was scared to admit it to herself, she couldn't ignore the feeling: the deep, biting pain of inadequacy. Not once in her life had she failed an assignment…until now. Her goal of gaining Shepard's trust, as ordered by the Illusive Man, had not been attained, and her concern for Shepard's focus was to blame. Not only had she failed the Illusive Man, but she had failed Shepard.

Miranda took a deep breath and released it in an audible sigh of frustration. Why did it even matter if she failed to meet Shepard's standards? She didn't have to prove anything to him…

Did she?

Unfortunately, she did. As Shepard's handler, she had to make sure the man succeeded, by any means. In order to do that, she had to be on the ground during these missions. And while it was new and uncomfortable, Miranda decided that biting the bullet, apologizing, and redeeming herself in Shepard's eyes was the best course of action. After taking a minute to collect herself, Miranda switched on her private terminal and input the commands to bring up the video feed of Shepard's room. What she saw surprised her. The man was on his knees at the foot of his bed, with his head bowed. The man was…praying.

_That's funny, nothing in his file mentioned him being religious. His language points in the opposite direction entirely…_

After a few moments of silence, Shepard sighed and returned to his feet. He cracked his neck and headed towards the bathroom. Miranda switched video feeds, and brought up footage of the Commander splashing cold water on himself. A few seconds later, Shepard snatched a towel from the rack and buried his face in it. Shepard exited the bathroom and headed for the door to his quarters. Upon his exit, Miranda switched off the bug feeds. She was worried about Shepard. Not in the way one might think…that would be ridiculous, but in the sense that losing him this early in the process would be catastrophic. She had slaved over his resurrection for two whole years, and now he was going to run amok with Jacob on Omega without her supervision.

Ignoring the growing feeling of stress, Miranda cleared her throat and began to compile the mission report Shepard had ordered her to complete, though she knew that given the recent turn of events, that information would not suffice; she needed to speak with the Illusive Man…

The video comm had gone as expected, for the most part. The Illusive Man had not chastised her for her failure to gain Shepard's trust; rather he had praised it…in a sense. He had confirmed that Garrus was indeed a risk factor in diverting Shepard's attention away from the mission. Nonetheless, he was interested in seeing how the two really worked together under optimum conditions, and also ordered Miranda to redeem herself in Shepard's eyes. A few minutes later, the conversation ended, leaving Miranda feeling better about her credit with the Illusive Man.

Despite this, as she returned to her room, she still couldn't shake the shame of failing the Commander's orders. She cursed herself for allowing this man to belittle her, but she couldn't help but feel the sting of Shepard's words. While they were not spoken harshly, they carried the weight of a man of greater importance.

_And he wasn't even designed for this…_

Miranda swiped her hand over the door interface and entered her quarters, plopping down in her chair and spinning around to face her terminal. She finished the lengthy mission report in a matter of minutes and forwarded it to both Shepard and the Illusive Man. She ran her hands through her hair, sighed, and looked towards her bed. While Shepard and Jacob were on Omega, Miranda decided she would take a nap. The man wasn't dubbed a "super-soldier" for no reason, and could handle himself anyway…


	10. X: Author's Note and Update

**Author's Note: Feb. 25, 2012**

Hey Guys! I've gotten a lot of messages asking me if Dauntless was a dead story, and rightfully so. I uploaded chapters every week or so for a while, but given my current course load this semester, writing at that pace requires time that I don't have these days. Having said that,** Dauntless is NOT a dead story**, and will continue to be written. I am working on chapter 10 as we speak, and hope to have it up within the next few weeks or so. Spring Break is also coming up for me, and that will give me a chance to really crank out some writing. Thank you so much for your reviews and feedback throughout the process. I've gotten a lot of positive reviews about this story, and intend to see it through to completion. Until next time!

-S


	11. XI: Course Now the Cracks

**XI: Course Now the Cracks**

**March 10, 2013: Told y'all it wasn't a dead story! Sorry for the wait, but school has been absolutely crazy this semester, and in addition to that, I scrapped my old chapter 10 entirely and started from scratch. I'm on Spring Break now, so that should give fme some solid writing time, and I should be able to crank out another chapter by the end of next week. Anyways, I won't keep you from reading much longer. Review and follow/ favorite if you like it, thanks for reading guys!**

The mission had gone as expected, for the most part, despite the speed bumps Jacob and Shepard had encountered. Mordin had agreed to come aboard the Normandy and begin work on a counter-measure to the Collector swarms, and in return, Shepard and Jacob had rescued his assistant. The Commander had taken slugs to his right shoulder and thigh during a skirmish with 7 vorcha, but all had been eradicated courtesy of Shepard's omni-blade, but overall the mission was a huge success. They had even managed to help a sick batarian on the verge of death, who, because of Mordin's cure, would surely make a swift recovery. Deeds like this made the fight against the Collectors worth it in Shepard's eyes.

_It's the little things that make this galaxy better. _

Shepard smiled inwardly at the thought. Despite his military demeanor, he truly did enjoy helping those who needed it. Even more, he enjoyed seeing people help each other, the way Mordin helped the batarian and all of the infected on Omega. That, above all else, told him the struggle was worth it. He limped out of the shuttle with Jacob following, and began to head for the elevator door when he heard Jacob's voice behind him.

"You alright Commander? Maybe you should go see Chakwas for those slug wounds."

The Commander turned around and cracked a half-smile.

"Oh believe me, Jacob. I will. Hell hath no fury like Chakwas when you don't see her after a field injury. I fear that woman's maternal wrath more than just about anything in the galaxy."

Jacob chuckled.

"Ah. I see. So I have a question, Commander."

"I'm all ears, Taylor."

Jacob leaned up against the Kodiak.

"How come Miranda didn't accompany us on this mission?"

Shepard limped over to the nearest chair and sat down.

"Simply put, because of her refusal to help Garrus."

Jacob's brow furrowed.

"Commander, I'm not sure I understand. She did indirectly refuse to revive him, but I administered the medi-gel. We were able to get him back to the Normandy before he bled out."

Shepard sighed.

"That's true Jacob. But it's not just about her refusal to help a friend of mine. If you didn't help me with the medi-gel, we may have lost one of the greatest assets to our team that we could ever find. But even more importantly, she disobeyed an order, and put her own thoughts before the team. This is going to be a long and tough mission, and I can't have a ground team that I can't trust. I need everyone to be working together at all times, and Miranda has been fighting me nearly every step of the way. Since I can't depend on her to do what needs to be done, she has been grounded, and will remain so for the foreseeable future. As a former Alliance soldier, I trust you see what I'm getting at?"

"Absolutely, Commander. I wasn't questioning you."

"I know you weren't, Jacob. I'm not an unfair person. I do my best to make sure everyone on this team is content, but I can't have somebody down there that I don't trust. I'm sure Miranda's furious at me now, but hopefully she can get it together. Despite the fact that I don't trust her, I need all the muscle and brains I can get on the ground with me, and she's a huge combination of both. I need her."

Jacob nodded.

"Understood Commander."

Shepard got up from the chair, half-grimacing in reaction to the bullet wound on his thigh.

"You heading upstairs Taylor?"

"Nah, I have to hang down here for a bit. Got stuff to do with the Kodiak's defense systems and whatnot. I'll see you around, Commander."

Shepard gave a friendly salute and limped towards the elevator door. As he reached for the button, the door opened, revealing the beautiful Cerberus second-in-command.

_Brilliant. Now it's a party. _

Miranda immediately noticed the blood seeping through the holes on Shepard's shoulder and leg, and scowled.

"Didn't they teach you to occasionally take cover in the Alliance?"

"Yes, but in the general absence of said cover, one tends to find themselves out of options, and fight in the open."

Miranda rolled her eyes.

"Shepard, if you don't respect your own safety, that's one thing. Just remember I put two years into resurrecting you. At least show some respect for my work."

Shepard limped past her into the elevator. He turned around and scoffed.

"I don't know where you get this sense of ownership over my body, Lawson, but you need to nip it in the bud. I'm not your little pet anymore."

Before she could respond, Shepard pressed a button, and the elevator door shut in her face.

The Commander winced as he shifted his weight off his right leg. A few seconds later, the elevator doors opened, and Shepard limped off in the direction of Dr. Chakwas's office. As he turned the corner, ready to face certain ridicule at the hands of Chakwas, he heard a deep voice behind him.

"Shepard. Nobody's given me a mirror yet, but I need to know…how bad is it?"

The Commander turned around. There, in the flesh, was Garrus Vakarian, up and about only a matter of hours after his near-death experience. His armor was damaged, and a large scar covered the right side of his face, but Shepard was relieved regardless. His closest friend was alive. He laughed in near disbelief.

"Hell Garrus, you were always ugly. On the bright side, lots of women find scars attractive."

The two laughed heartily.

"Please Shepard, don't make me laugh. Still a bit sore from the surgery."

"Sorry. But I was serious about the second part. If we pick up Liara for this fight, you should show her your new look. I'm sure she'll enjoy it."

Garrus's mandibles twitched. He looked genuinely confused.

"I-I'm not quite sure what you mean, Shepard."

"Oh come on, bud. She was eyeing you up from the minute she came aboard the SR-1. Don't tell me you didn't notice!"

"I guess not. Anyway, I have some things I want to talk to you about, but they can wait until after your visit with Chakwas. I assume that's where you're going, correct?"

"Unfortunately, which means I'm looking for any excuse to stall right now. What do you want to talk about, Garrus?"

"A bunch of stuff, but it can wait until after Karin pulls the slugs out of you. Maybe we can talk over drinks after hours?"

Shepard nodded.

"Sounds good. I stocked up on Macallan 25 on the citadel during a little shopping trip."

"You never fail to get the good shit, Shepard. I'll set up shop in the forward batteries and see if I can't make myself useful."

"Great. Just page my quarters when you're with your calibrations for the day, Garrus."

"Will do. Just like old times right?"

Shepard laughed.

"Just like old times indeed."

With that, the Commander turned and limped around the corner. Eventually, he arrived at the entrance of the Normandy's medical bay.

_Here goes._

He swiped his hand over the door, and with a hiss, it opened. Inside stood Dr. Chakwas, one hand holding a datapad, the other on her hip. Her lips curled into a half-smile. Shepard braced himself.

"I would yell at you for being reckless in the field, Commander, but we've done this dance enough to know that anything I say to you goes in one ear and gets shat out the other."

Shepard smirked. He admired Chakwas. Since the days of Saren and the Geth, the good doctor had been patching him up, and had always been a good friend. They shared a mother-son type bond that Shepard couldn't exactly explain, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

"If I heeded your warnings doctor, I'm afraid you'd be out of a job."

Chakwas rolled her eyes.

"Hmm. Well, the pipedream of my retirement aside, we need to get you cleaned up. You know the drill, Commander. Remove as much armor as your injuries allow, and I'll be back in a minute to take the rest off and patch you up. I just have to grab some supplies from storage."

Shepard nodded and gingerly began to remove his armor, wincing as he removed the plating on his right leg and arm. He let out a sigh of relief, as the pressure from the armor clamping down around his limbs was removed. After a long and uncomfortable process, his armor lay in a messy pile to his right. Shepard began to inspect his wounds:

_Not too much blood lost…always a good sign. _

Shepard let out a brief chuckle. He had tried for a while to keep track of the bullets he had taken in the field, but had long since lost count. At this point, a gunshot felt no less painful than a well-placed punch. Despite this, he slowed his movements to ensure that as little blood was lost as possible. He turned his head as the door to the med-bay opened with a hiss.

"I'm glad you were able to get your armor off, Commander. After I take the slugs out and sterilize the wounds, I'll have Jacob come and pick it up for repairs. He was kind enough to offer to patch it up for you…again."

Shepard nodded with a small smile.

"Thanks, Karin. I appreciate it. Don't know what I'd do without you."

Chakwas scoffed.

"You'd most likely resemble Swiss cheese, for starters. Hold still, I'm going to take the bullets out of your shoulder and thigh."

With that, the Doctor grabbed a pair of tweezers and carefully dug inside each wound, quickly finding each bullet and slowly removing it. The Commander held still, occasionally grimacing in discomfort.

"So Commander, what do you think of it all so far?"

Shepard adjusted his arm as Chakwas applied a generous amount of medi-gel to the wound. Immediately, the discomfort was alleviated.

"Of what?"

Chakwas continued her ministrations on the Commander's leg.

"The mission, the crew, the odds…everything."

Shepard sighed.

"It's way too early to hit the Collectors, and the odds are stacked against us, but I have a feeling we can get this done. This isn't the first time we've faced the impossible, and with you and Garrus, I'm pretty damn sure we'll take it to them."

Chakwas nodded, finished her application of medi-gel, and patted Shepard on the back, a signal for him to stand up. He quickly complied.

"I wish I had your confidence, Commander, but I must say that I feel better about it now that you're at the helm. Any problems walking around?"

The Commander took a few casual steps around the room without any trouble and shook his head. A small half-smile returned to his face.

"None. And I feel safer knowing that you're here to patch us up when we come back from the field. Garrus and I owe you, Doctor."

Chakwas chuckled.

"In that case, how about a bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy next time we stop at the Citadel? I appreciate the craft behind your whisky, but I can't stomach it to save my life."

Now it was Shepard's turn to laugh.

"Fair enough, I'll be on the lookout for one. Thanks again, Karin. Any other instructions?"

Chakwas nodded.

"I know you're all dirty from battle, but hold off on showering for the next half-hour or so, so that the medi-gel can fully sink in. As far as strenuous activity goes, you're cleared. The muscle tissue hit by the bullets has already healed and no bones were cracked or broken due to impact. Just…don't forget to duck on occasion."

Shepard rolled his eyes.

"Oh, is that what I've been doing wrong?"

"So it would seem."

"Right. I'm going to go talk to Dr. Solus. Thanks again, Doctor."

"Always a pleasure, Commander."

Shepard turned and exited the Med-Bay, returning to the elevator. A few seconds later he arrived at the 2nd floor. The Commander left the elevator, bypassed the CIC and galaxy map, and entered the Tech Lab. There, he found the salarian scientist already hard at work, monitoring various test tubes and incubation machines. Upon the sound of the door opening, he looked up at the visitor.

"Shepard. Glad to be aboard. How can I help?"

Shepard smiled.

"Glad to have you aboard, Mordin. I just wanted to stop by and ask if the lab was working well enough for you."

Mordin returned the friendly gesture.

"Excellent. Found a few surveillance bugs. Destroyed most of them. Returned expensive-looking one to Executive Officer Lawson. Nothing unexpected."

Shepard crossed his arms.

"Nothing unexpected indeed. I wouldn't have put it past her. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"As far as lab equipment goes? No. Current setup is most satisfactory. Just need more samples. More Collector data. Tissue samples. Anything you can get, I can use, Commander."

Shepard nodded.

"I'm sure we'll have multiple encounters with them before we decide to hit them where it hurts. I'll have you out in the field with me on occasion, and you can collect fresh samples as you please. Besides, I don't trust myself to provide samples in the exact condition that you require…someone else might get it wrong."

Mordin smiled again.

"Yes. Indeed. Someone else might get it wrong. I like that."

"Have you got a minute to talk? I hate to distract you from your research, but I like to know how my crew is doing."

"Of course. Plague on Omega dealt with. Plenty of time to analyze Collector intelligence with impressive laboratory setup. Missed working for operations with a budget. AI in particular very helpful. Haven't been a part of such a well-backed operation since STG."

The Commander crossed his arms, shifting his weight off of his freshly healed leg.

"My dossier on you documented your time in the Special Tasks Group. What kind of research operations did that entail?"

"Not simply research. Several reconnaissance missions. Covert, high-risk operations. Served under a young captain named Kirrahe. Studied Krogan genophage, took water and tissue samples from Krogan colonies."

"I worked with Kirrahe. His STG unit helped me destroy Saren's cloning facility on Virmire."

"Heard he was a part of that. Jury-rigged explosives. Hmm. Always got job done with limited resources. Good captain. A bit of obsessed with speeches though. 'Hold the line!' and whatnot. Military bravado perhaps. No offense."

"None taken. I'll let you get back to it. Nice talking with you, Mordin."

Mordin nodded.

"Good talking with you too, Commander. Here if you need me."

Shepard left the tech lab and headed for the elevator.

_Time for a long, hot shower…_

The Commander entered the cabin, shed his torn-up combat BDUs, and headed towards the bathroom. Before turning on the shower, he stopped by the mirror to examine his wounds.

_Sure enough, they're healing well. Just another two scars to add to the collection, I guess._

Shepard spent the better part of an hour in the shower, ridding himself of all combat grime by dousing himself in what he jokingly estimated to be the stronger half of the Normandy's hot water supply. He dressed quickly, threw on a bit of cologne and sat down in front of his terminal, carefully reading the dossiers that the Illusive Man had sent to him. Roughly 40 minutes had passed when he heard EDI's voice over the intercom.

"Commander, XO Lawson would like to speak with you in her office."

_Splendid. Absolutely fucking splendid. _

"Any idea what she wants, EDI?"

"Miss Lawson did not specify the nature of her request to speak with you."

_I hate surprises. _

"Thanks for letting me know, EDI. Tell her I will be there in a minute."

"Of course, Commander."

Shepard stood slowly and after pausing to crack his neck, began walking towards the elevator door. After a short wait, he rounded the corner and knocked on the door to the XO's office. A muffled voice came from inside.

" Yes?"

"You wanted to see me, Miss Lawson?"

"Right, come in, Commander."

Shepard waived his hand across the door's sensor and crossed the threshold into the gorgeous XO's office. Miranda stood up from her desk chair.

"Did you need something, Miss Lawson?"

"No…"

Miranda paused for a few seconds. The Commander cocked his eyebrow.

"…Look. About Vakarian."

The Cerberus second-in-command looked up at him. Shepard crossed his arms.

"I'm listening."

"He was viewed as a distraction from your focus on the mission. I had my orders from the Illusive Man, but I…erm…I should have administered the medi-gel."

Shepard scratched his head.

"Not too good at apologies, I take it."

Miranda scowled.

"I don't do apologies. I was simply stating that Vakarian, though a liability and potential conflict, offers…considerable experience and knowledge that could be…useful in our pursuit of the Collectors."

For some reason or other, Shepard couldn't help but crack one of his trademark, boyish half-smiles. Watching Miranda attempt to avoid making a direct apology amused him.

_Why not push her buttons a bit more? Reactions alone would make the trip worth it. _

"Oh, that's what you were getting at? That's interesting. I would think someone as intelligent as you would recognize the redundancy in sharing such observations with me, given the argument we recently had about it, where I very explicitly laid out the benefits of having Garrus on our team."

"Don't be an ass, Commander."

"There's no way that's all you wanted to say to me, unless you genuinely wanted to waste my time. What did you really call me down here for, Lawson?"

Miranda sighed. She had never been this humiliated in her life.

"Right, here's the deal. I want, no-I need to be back in the field with you, Shepard. It's very important to my job here on the Normandy, and the Illusive Man feels as if he's being kept in the dark because he doesn't receive mission reports from me."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing in my eyes."

"It's not just that. We're up against impossible odds, and even though I'm second-in-command of Cerberus, my task is to help you and make sure you succeed. I can't do that if I'm grounded for every mission."

Shepard scratched his head in thought.

"That, I can understand. I want you on the ground with me as well. You're very talented and an invaluable asset on the battlefield, Lawson; you'll never hear me say any different. So is Garrus. However, you overlooked that in doing what the Illusive Man wanted, and as a result, we almost lost one of the best soldiers and marksmen the galaxy has ever seen. Believe me when I say I'd want nothing more than to have your biotic abilities and combat skills with me during our ground operations, but I can't have you with me if you disobey the chain of command. I know you directly to the Illusive Man, but the Illusive Man isn't the one out in the field fighting, and thus can't offer useful and objective advice regarding important decision-making. See where I'm coming from?"

Miranda had to restrain herself from biting her lip out of embarrassment.

"I…yes, Commander. It won't happen again."

Shepard cocked his eyebrows again.

"I hope you plan on abiding by that guarantee."

Miranda nodded.

The Commander sighed.

"Alright. Next time we go planetside, you're on the ground team with me. I'm not warning you again though. Your mistake was pretty damn costly the first time, and if it happens again, I will relieve you of all duties onboard the Normandy. Understood?"

Miranda inhaled and exhaled promptly, though Shepard couldn't tell if it was out of relief or annoyance.

"Yes, Commander."

"Look, I don't like all this fighting any more than you do. I'll admit I'm equally guilty, but I get frustrated when I have to fight for absolute authority with my XO. This will likely prove to be the most challenging task I've ever taken on, and this bullshit that we hurl at each other distracts us from focusing fully. I want to be more civil and professional with you, Miss Lawson. I hope you want the same."

Miranda's expression remained neutral.

"Of course. I'm glad you feel that way. Let me know if there's anything that needs doing."

Shepard paused.

"Actually, yes. Dinner's served at 1800 this evening. Make sure you grab some, alright? You've been working all day and Mess Sergeant Gardner says he hasn't seen you eat once yet."

The corner of Miranda's mouth twisted upward into what Shepard could only classify as the smallest of smiles.

"I'll try."

" See you later then, Miss Lawson."

The beautiful XO nodded as the Commander turned and walked briskly out of the office.

HeHe

**PS: Next chapter will be fairly short, I'm thinking Garrus and Shepard may or may not have a little bro-talk over drinks, as previously stated. Who knows? Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave feedback!**


	12. XII: Once More, Unto the Breach

**XII: Once More, Unto the Breach**

**Normandy SR-2 Combat Information Center, 20:30 earth-time**

Miranda Lawson had been having a rough day, to say the least. Several more clashes with Shepard had resulted in both a humiliating reprimanding and a large amount of work due to wasted time, the latter of which required her attention for the rest of the night. However, an elongated briefing with the Illusive Man following her "talk" with Shepard had delayed her even further.

_No rest for the wicked, I suppose…_

She switched off the console in the Comm room and made her way to the elevator, the heels of her boots clicking rhythmically with each step. After a short ride on the elevator, she arrived at the Crew Deck. Tossing her jet-black hair, she stepped out of the elevator, bypassing the kitchen.

_Damn, looks like it's closed. _

A few steps later, she arrived at her door. Suddenly, her foot made contact with something. She looked down at her feet, and saw a tray, with several plates of food and a bottle of water, with a note:

_"Because you seem to have a problem following my orders –S"_

Miranda's lips curled into a smirk as she picked up the tray.

"Well played, Shepard. I'm almost impressed."

**Normandy SR-2 Starboard Observation Deck, 23:04 earth-time **

Exhausted after all the fighting and follow-up reports, Shepard made his way to the Starboard Observation Deck.

_I think we've all earned ourselves a drink or two. _

He strolled through the door and found Garrus sitting on one of the couches, tapping away at schematics on his data tablet. The Turian glanced up at the Commander.

"Shepard. Glad you came. I was wondering whether or not you'd be too tired to hang out for a bit."

"A lot of things have changed recently Garrus, but my inability to refuse whiskey and good company hasn't."

Vakarian chuckled.

"If it did, I'd be highly suspicious of what Cerberus did to rebuild you."

Shepard shuffled over to the bar opposite the observation window, grabbed two glasses, one of his prized bottles of Macallan 25, and a rare bottle of vintage Turian whiskey.

"No need for the Turian malt, Shepard. You got me hooked on that Macallan. Best damn stuff I ever had…even humans get it right once in a while."

Shepard laughed heartily. He had forgotten how nice even simple banter with his closest friend was.

"I suppose there's a hint of truth to that Vakarian. On the bright side, you'll never drink that caustic Turian swill again."

Shepard handed Garrus his glass and clinked it with his own before sitting down in the chair a few feet away from the couch.

"You might be right there. To the Normandy, another brush with impossible odds, and me being there to cover your ass."

Again, Shepard laughed.

"I'll drink to that. All joking aside though Garrus, it really is nice to have you back. How are you holding up on the new Normandy?"

Garrus took a sip of the whiskey and exhaled audibly.

"I'll be honest, it's a lot to get used to, particularly with the ship's Cerberus outfitting and the AI. I'm glad to have Joker at the helm, though. I've missed that crazy bastard."

Shepard nodded and took a small sip of whiskey.

"I bet. Did you get a chance to familiarize yourself with the ship's forward batteries during the day?"

"Yeah I did. Actually I was just looking over some schematics on my tablet before you came in. I took a look around, did some minor calibrating, and talked to the engineers. They seem to know what they're doing…for humans."

Shepard chuckled at Garrus's quip.

"Any opinions of our setup down there?"

Garrus put his whiskey down on the table beside him and picked up his data tablet, thumbing through the schematics.

"So far, from what I've seen, the forward batteries are pretty solid. There's always room for improvement though…"

Garrus's mandibles twitched upwards into what Shepard could only characterize as a childish grin. The Turian was like a kid in a candy store when it came to bulking up the firepower of any and all weapons he could get his hands on.

"I'm not sure whether I should be scared or not, Vakarian. Care to explain a bit?"

Garrus handed the tablet to Shepard.

"Of course, take a look. They're just blueprints and right now, but I'm coming up with a major upgrade to the forward battery. If we mine enough resources, I should be able to fit it to the ship. Of course, I need to tweak the design and mechanics of it a bit. The upgrades would nearly double the battery's draw from the drive core, so I'm trying to boost the efficiency. Even though these designs are primitive at the moment, the end result should give the Normandy considerably more firepower. I know I say it a lot, but this time we really don't know what we're up against, and as you humans say, better safe than sorry."

Shepard nodded.

"Brilliant and batshit crazy as usual, Vakarian. I love the idea though. In time I'll get you the resources. Keep me updated on the progress of the designs every once in a while?"

"Absolutely Shepard."

There was a brief moment of silence. Garrus took a long sip of his drink, then turned to the Commander again.

"With all that's been going on, I haven't had a chance to ask you how you're dealing with all this. Two years gone, and now you've got a category 5 shitstorm on your plate? Christ Shepard, I certainly couldn't handle it. How are you doing? And don't dance around this one. Spill it all."

Shepard cleared his throat after downing the remainder of his whiskey.

"It's a lot to take in, I'll admit."

The Turian shook his head.

"You'll have to do better than that."

The Commander sighed. He then spoke, slowly getting up to fetch the bottle of whiskey.

"Well Garrus, I guess if I can't talk to you, who can I talk to?"

Vakarian nodded.

Shepard brought the bottle back, poured himself another glass, and offered the bottle to Garrus, who did the same and set it back on the table beside him.

"Shit, Garrus. How do you talk about what's happened? Where do you start?"

Garrus shrugged.

"Two years ago, but I'm just taking a shot in the dark."

"The SR-1 incident may have happened two years ago, but to me it's still fresh. Losing so many friends, feeling like you failed your crew…you never get used to that. I died with those thoughts."

He paused to take a pull from his glass.

"And next thing I know, I'm being woken up by Miranda Lawson on the Lazarus station, to find that I was resurrected by Cerberus, and that the Collectors have been abducting hundreds of thousands of colonists. What's worse, the Reapers are behind it all. I just…I haven't quite made sense of it all yet. I haven't actually gotten a chance to get back from it all and figure it out. And I don't think I will, or any of us, for that matter. With Saren and Sovereign, we knew what we were up against."

Garrus nodded.

"Definitely Shepard. I can't say I've ever had anything like what happened to you happen to me, but I get where you're coming from. All of this new stuff at once…it's insane."

"Exactly. Now, our enemy is a complete unknown. We don't know what their endgame is, and we only have a basic grasp of their methods. I'm guessing that, compared to what we'll have to face on this mission, Saren and Sovereign will have been a walk in the park."

Garrus grunted.

"I get that feeling too. It's too early to really tell, but from what I've been briefed on, it's a suicide mission."

Shepard set his glass down and scratched his head.

"That's what I've been told…"

Shepard chuckled, looked up at Garrus and flashed a grin

"…but I always did have trouble listening to others."

Garrus snorted.

" Damned if that isn't true."

"It's gonna be hard as hell, but I think we can pull through it. We may not have the whole team together, but anything's possible, and as long as I'm in command of this ship, I'm not gonna let a damn thing happen to it. Cerberus or not. I failed once before, and it got us all into this mess. I'm not going to do that again."

"Sounds more like the Shepard I know. The new team, from what I can tell so far, is capable of handling their shit. I've briefly spoken with Mordin, and that Jacob fellow in the armory is pretty knowledgeable with firearms. As you can imagine, he and I had quite a bit to talk about. I'm not sure about that Lawson woman though. I'd watch out for her. She doesn't seem like much of a team player."

Shepard chuckled.

"If anything, I'm the one not being the team player. She and I haven't exactly seen eye to eye, especially when it comes to Cerberus. She certainly had a lapse in judgment with refusing to help you, but I think she's come around from it. I really think she has. I totally understand your distrust of her, as I initially felt that distrust, but we have to work as a team here. Like her or not, she's a hell of a shot, an even better biotic, and she's brilliant. I think if we can all try to put this behind us, we'll all be better for it. I told her the same thing, and she seems to agree as well."

"Jeez, you're not coming on to her, are you Shepard?"

Shepard scoffed.

"Don't be ridiculous."

After a brief silence, Shepard sighed, rubbed his head, and downed the rest of his whiskey. Garrus immediately picked up on his body language.

"It's Ash. You miss her, don't you?"

Shepard nodded slowly, his hand moving to his temples, as it always did when he was seriously stressed about something.

"Yeah. Have you heard from her?"

Vakarian shook his head.

"No. After you died, the members of the team went their separate ways, I guess. There wasn't any bad blood, I just don't think that any of us knew what to do without you at the helm."

"I just wish I could get through to her, and try to explain everything. God, I wonder if she even knows about me being back and all…if she misses me or not."

Garrus shrugged.

"It's hard to say. You've got to accept the possibility of the worst though, Shepard. While all this may be fresh to you, it's been two years for her. She might have moved on."

Shepard nodded.

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Understandable."

"But as much as I want to use all the means I have to talk to her, the mission comes first. There's a lot of work that needs doing at the moment, so I have no choice but to put that on the backburner for the time being. Ash would understand."

Garrus leaned back in the couch.

"Yeah, I think she would. Maybe we'll see her sooner than you expect."

Shepard cracked one of his signature half-smiles as he looked through the starboard observation window.

"As much as the odds are stacked up against us this time, I think we can take 'em. What do you think, old friend?"

Garrus laughed as he tossed back the rest of his whiskey.

"As long as I'm there to drag your sorry ass through the mud when the going gets rough, Shepard."

"Easy there, Vakarian. I think we've both had our share of brushes with death."

"Fair enough. Call it even?"

"Absolutely."

The two friends laughed for a while. Once the laughter had died down, Garrus picked up the bottle.

"Damn, out of whiskey…a feeling I know all too well now, thanks to you."

"No worries at all Garrus, there's plenty to go around behind the bar in the captain's stash, but perhaps another time."

"Agreed. I think we both need some rest. I'll stay here and work on the battery schematics for a few more minutes, but you should head upstairs and catch some shut-eye. You look like hell."

"You're one to talk."

"Touché."

Both shared a laugh. Shepard slowly rose from his chair, threw the bottle away, grabbed the empty glasses and washed them.

"Alright, I'm gonna get some sleep. See you tomorrow, Garrus."

"Likewise, Shepard. Thanks for stopping by."

"Anytime, friend."

The Commander then walked out of the Observation deck, rode the elevator to his quarters, and stepped inside. After removing his combat boots and pants, he thoroughly washed his teeth and face, and rolled under the covers of his bed, almost instantly falling asleep. For the first time in many nights, John Shepard enjoyed a peaceful sleep, until….

**_"Commander, the Illusive Man would like to speak to you in the Comm Room. EDI out." _**

******7/2: aaaaand we're back! Finally got some time. The semester's over and I'm enjoying a vacation in Italy. Expect another chapter within the next few weeks! Comments and reviews are always appreciated. Thank you so much for reading! I think y'all can guess what's coming up next...**


	13. XIII: Champion-less, The Seas Are Rising

**XIII: Champion-less, the Seas Are Rising**

Shepard rubbed his eyes briefly as he walked briskly into the Comm Room. A hologram of the Illusive Man appeared, and he wasted no time addressing the Commander.

"Shepard. I think we have them. Horizon, a human colony in the Terminus system, just went silent. If the Collectors haven't commenced their attack yet, I imagine they will soon."

He stopped to take a quick pull from his cigarette.

"Has Mordin delivered the countermeasures for the Seeker Swarms?"

Shepard shook his head.

"He's made significant headway, but it isn't complete yet."

"Let's hope he works well under pressure. There's something else you should know; Ashley Williams, your former gunnery chief, is stationed there."

Shepard could feel a large pit form in his stomach. Outside, however, he remained calm.

_Ash._

"What's she doing out in the Terminus systems?"

"Officially, she's part of an outreach program to help improve relations with the colonies. But if they sent her, there may be some other goal they wish to accomplish. Perhaps you should take it up with her, if you see her."

The Commander was cautious. This all seemed too coincidental.

"So let me get this straight: the Collectors are attacking a colony that one of my former crew just happens to be on? I don't buy it. Not for a second."

The Illusive Man took another drag, exhaling slowly.

"It should be no surprise that the Collectors are interested in you, and those around you, especially if they are working for the Reapers. She might be a means for them to get to you. If I were you, I would have been suspicious as well, but it makes sense for them to make a play for this colony."

Shepard crossed his arms.

_Makes sense. _

"In that case, we should send a message to the Citadel. The Alliance should be able to provide us with reinforcements."

The Illusive Man shook his head.

"Not until you go down there and investigate for yourself first. I don't want the Alliance getting in our way. Once you have the situation under control, I will contact the Alliance personally."

"Fair enough. Send the coordinates. We have to get the jump on the Collectors and protect the colonists as best we can. I won't allow the casualty rate to pile up."

The Illusive man tapped a few buttons on the armrest of his chair.

"I concur. Coordinates have been sent. Head there immediately. Remember, Shepard; this is the most warning we've ever had, and likely the most we'll ever get. Good luck."

With that, the comm link closed. Shepard turned around, activated his omni-tool, and barked into it.

"Joker, set a course for Horizon in the Terminus systems. The Illusive Man has relayed coordinates."

"Coordinates received and course has been set, Commander. Jumping to FTL now. We should hit the relay in 40, ETA one hour from now."

"Thanks, Joker. I'll assemble my ground soon, but right now, I have to talk to Mordin."

"Aye Aye, Commander. Kick some Collector ass down there, understood?"

Shepard chuckled.

"Are you trying to give me orders, soldier?"

"Absolutely, Commander. Joker out."

Shepard soon arrived in the lab to find Mordin examining a Seeker in its cage.

"Tell me you have something, Mordin."

The Salarian's mouth twitched upward into a grin.

"Yes. Countermeasures have been developed and integrated into squad's armor. Was hoping for more testing before field use, but am confident it will work well. Anything else?"

"That'll be all for now. I may need you on the ground for other missions, but I already have a team in mind for this one. Let me know if you ever need anything, ok?"

"Will do. Thank you, Shepard. Will return to my research."

With that, the Salarian turned to his data terminal and began accessing an amalgam of his research databases. Shepard jogged out of the room towards the armory, while activating the comm link on his omni-tool.

"Miranda, Garrus, meet me in the armory. You are my ground team for Horizon, understood?"

Miranda's reply came first.

"Of course, Commander."

Garrus followed suit.

"Understood, Shepard. Give me five, I'm just finishing up some calibrations."

_Him and his damn calibrations. He never stops, does he?_

Five minutes later, the team was gathered in the armory, loading themselves up with combat gear. Garrus had fitted himself with his trusty sniper rifle and a vindicator battle rifle, while Shepard chose his heavily customized m-8 assault rifle and a phalanx pistol. Miranda, like Shepard, was equipped with a phalanx pistol, but opted for her m-6 submachine gun instead of an assault rifle.

"Miranda, are you sure you have enough firepower on you?"

Her response was even.

"I have all the firepower I need, Commander."

Garrus looked up at Miranda, agitated.

"And how are you so sure of that Lawson? We have no idea what we're walking into, yet here you are, with two fucking water pistols strapped to your side, confident that you won't be outgunned."

Miranda's eyes narrowed. A blue aura began to surround her fists, though her tone remained even.

"In addition to being an excellent shot, I also have some of the most advanced biotics in the galaxy. Care for a demonstration, Vakarian?"

Garrus was about to respond, when Shepard silenced the two.

"Save it, you two. I'll have none of this on the ground. We work as a team, got it?"

"Yes, Commander"

"Of course Shepard."

Shepard placed his m-8 on his back mount.

"Good. Let's head the shuttle and get down there. We'll look for any clues of collector presence, and if things get hairy, we'll stop the attack as best we can. Also, any information we can get on the Collectors and their methods will be invaluable in the future. Keep your eyes peeled for evidence at all times."

Garrus and Miranda nodded, and the two followed the Commander down to the shuttle bay. After a brief ride, the team landed on Horizon. As the shuttle door opened, the massive silhouette of a Collector vessel immediately caught Shepard's attention. Miranda was the first to state the obvious.

"Well, they've certainly wasted no time getting here."

Garrus responded.

"Agreed. Look at the size of the damn thing."

Shepard reached for his assault rifle.

"Let's get moving. We can't waste any time."

Miranda and Garrus nodded, and the team set off. After a short while, they came upon a large courtyard. Miranda immediately spotted trouble on the horizon, and alerted Shepard and Garrus immediately.

"Shepard, we have contact. Enemy Collector platoon is headed toward us."

"I see them too. Everyone, get into cover before they land! Garrus, find higher ground and take and lay down some suppressive fire NOW!"

"10-4, Shepard."

With that, Garrus climbed a flight of stairs into the nearest building and began establishing a layer of cover fire with his assault rifle, while Shepard and Miranda took cover behind a wall. The Collector squad touched down and opened fire on the three. Shepard broke cover and fired 3 quick bursts, dropping two of the drones. Meanwhile, Miranda vaporized a Guardian drone attempting to set up a shield with a well-placed warp. After dispatching the two drones, Shepard rolled into cover behind a planter. He trained his sight on a drone, but before he pulled the trigger, he saw the drone's head evaporate in a cloud of grey mist. Shepard resisted the urge to laugh, as he opened up his comm link.

"Dammit Garrus, will you ever stop stealing my shot?"

"Apologies Shepard, but it seems you're a bit slow."

Before Shepard could respond, he heard Miranda's voice on the comm.

"Shepard look! One of the drones is…"

Shepard watched as a yellow light engulfed the drone, lifting it several feet into the air then releasing a massive burst of energy. He tried to move his feet, but his body would not let him. An ominous voice rang through his mind.

_"Your struggle is useless, human. I will break you. I am the vanguard of your destruction. I…am Harbinger." _

A screaming pain shot through his head. Shepard dropped to his knees and roared in agony. Then, as fast as the pain had struck, it dissipated. The Commander looked up just in time to see a large ball of dark energy hurtling towards him. The ball hit him squarely in the chest, sending him flying. He landed 20 feet away. Before he could get up, the immensely powerful drone was upon him. It grabbed Shepard by the throat, lifting him off his feet. Again, he heard the voice:

_"Humanity's end at our hand is inevitable. You cannot prevent the coming harvest." _

Again, pain shot through Shepard's head. He wanted to scream, but there was no air with which to do so. The Commander heard Miranda's muffled voice in his comm link, but the lack of oxygen in his brain made him unable to understand any of it. Just as he began to lose consciousness, a blue aura surrounded the drone and pulled it off of the Commander, sending both to the ground. Shepard inhaled sharply, the air flooding his lungs, and jumped to his feet, activating his omni-blade. The drone charged him, aiming a punch at Shepard's head. His senses regained, Shepard parried the blow with his left arm while using his right to sever the attacking arm. The drone threw another punch, but this time Shepard ducked under the punch, deactivated his omni-blade, and thrust his fist into its abdomen, simultaneously firing a m-127 Haymaker concussive shot from his wrist launcher. The shot blew a gaping hole in the creature, sending it flying into the side of a nearby building in an explosion of grey and red gore. Shepard coughed and spat out blood as Garrus and Miranda rushed to his side. Miranda, being the closer of the two, got there first.

"Shepard, are you alright?"

_"This is only the beginning, Shepard. I will let none stand before my might." _

Regaining his breath and composure, Shepard turned to his XO.

"Yes, thanks to you. He didn't get through my armor, but he knocked the wind out of me pretty badly."

Garrus arrived, a look of concern on his face.

"You took a nasty hit there, Shepard. You sure you're ok?"

"I think so."

Miranda interjected.

"What was that thing?"

"It told me its name was 'Harbinger.' I'm not sure what exactly Harbinger is, but it didn't die with that drone. It continued to talk to me after I killed it…which leads me to believe that Harbinger is the Reaper possessing these things."

"It _talked_ to you?"

"Yes. I came in contact with a Prothean beacon a while back. After that, Sovereign began to speak to me on occasion."

"Of course. It would explain why you're able to communicate with them."

Shepard walked over to his assault rifle and picked it up, wiping off the dirt on the stock.

"Now that that's settled, let's push on."

Garrus and Miranda nodded, and the team pushed on, meeting considerably less resistance than before along the way. After clearing out the remaining Collector forces, the team reactivated the colony's defense towers, and as a result, the massive vessel took off, retreating in the blink of an eye.

Miranda shook her head.

"They wanted the colonists and they got them. Thousands are missing."

Shepard sighed. One of the defense tower's engineers emerged from his hiding place, irate at Shepard.

"You let them get away? What the hell's the matter with you?"

Shepard looked up at the man.

"I'm sorry, but there was nothing we could do. They're gone."

"They got away? Half the fucking colony's in there, and that's all you can say? 'They got away'? FUCK you!"

Garrus took a step towards the engineer.

"Don't listen to him, Shepard. It was out of our hands."

The engineer's eyes slightly widened.

"Hey…I know that name. Shepard…you're some big Alliance hero, right?"

A feminine voice broke the silence.

"Commander Shepard: captain of the Normandy, first human SPECTRE, and savior of the Citadel. You are in the presence of a god, O'Donnell. Show some respect."

_Ash_…

Ashley Williams had approached the team from behind cover, clad in her trademark pink and white battle armor. Shepard was at a loss for words, but something seemed different about her; something Shepard couldn't quite put his finger on.

The engineer shook his head.

"You Alliance types…I don't understand it."

Ashley walked up to the Commander, and after a brief pause, embraced him.

"I thought you were dead, Shepard. We all did."

"You…you don't sound too happy to see me, Ash. Is something wrong?"

Ashley's eyes darkened.

"Yeah, something's bothering me. I spent the last two years believing you were dead. We had something, Shepard; something real. I…I loved you! I thought…when you were dead…I almost…how could you put me through that? Why didn't you try to contact me?! Why didn't you let me know you were alive?"

Shepard felt hurt.

_The first time we've talked in two years…and I'm being accused of something I had no control over._

"I didn't have a choice, Ash. Not in any of this. I spent the last two years in an induced coma while Cerberus rebuilt me."

Ashley was shocked. Her face showed nothing but anger.

"You're with _Cerberus_ now? I can't believe the reports were correct…"

Miranda placed her hand on her hip.

"Reports? So much for our security."

Ashley shot Miranda a venomous look.

"We got Alliance intel that Cerberus might be behind the abductions, and that Horizon was the next to be hit. I went to Anderson but he wouldn't talk. There were rumors that you weren't dead, and even worse, that you were working for the enemy."

_I have to try to reason with her. _

"Cerberus and I want the same thing: to rebuild our colonies. That doesn't mean I answer to them."

Ashley's voice grew louder.

"Do you really believe that, or is that just what Cerberus _wants _you to think? I wanted to believe that you were alive, I just…never expected anything like this!"

Miranda took several steps forward.

"We aren't _making _him do anything. He's working with Cerberus on his own accord, because the Alliance has been idling around while-"

"-No one addressed _you_¸ bitch. What, Shepard, did this slut here spread her legs and convince you to work for them?"

Miranda crossed her arms under her chest and scoffed.

"Typical."

Ashley ignored Miranda and continued berating Shepard.

"You betrayed the Alliance, Anderson, and me."

"Ash, you know me. I haven't done any of that. You know I'd only ever work with Cerberus for the right reason. You had to have seen it yourself. The Collectors are targeting human colonies, and they're working with the Reapers!"

"I'd like to believe you Shepard, but I don't trust Cerberus, and it worries me that you do. What the fuck did _they_ do to you? What if they're behind it? What if they're the ones working with the Collectors?"

Again, Miranda scoffed.

"Trademark Alliance attitude. You're so focused on Cerberus that you're blind to the real threat."

Shepard stood firm.

"Ash, you're letting the way you feel about Cerberus get in the way of facts. The Alliance is doing nothing to try and prevent these attacks, and consider the Reapers a nonexistent threat, even after our dealings with Sovereign."

"Or maybe, _Commander_, you feel like you owe them because they saved you. Maybe it's you. Doesn't matter, though. I still know where _my_ loyalties lie. We're _through_, Shepard. Best of luck in whatever the hell you're doing."

With that, Ashley turned and walked back into the building she had come from. Miranda noticed Shepard's shoulders drop ever so slightly. The Commander opened his comm link and radioed the Normandy.

"Joker, meet us at the extraction point. We're done here."

As he walked by her, Miranda could have sworn she saw the smallest of tears forming in Shepard's eyes.

_He didn't deserve that…_

Not that it mattered to her.


	14. XIV: An Angry Sky Bares the Signs

**XIV: An Angry Sky Bares the Signs, A Distant Violence Yet to Break**

**Normandy Captain's Quarters, 22:00 **

John Shepard stepped out of his bathroom after a long shower, breathing in the cool air of his quarters. He was a creature of habit, and a long shower was necessary after his daily two and a half hour workouts. Recently, these showers had become longer, and the workouts had grown considerably more intense. It seemed it was all he could do to get some time to himself these days. In the two weeks that had passed since Horizon, the hurt from Ashley's words quickly gave way to anger, which in turn gave the Commander focus. At first, the rejection was tough to swallow, and while Shepard had previously believed that there was something real between them, his mind and heart had found reason, that, if she was so willing to turn her back to the facts and ignore him, she had never really loved him in the first place. He had been in overdrive for the past fortnight, rescuing a tank-bred krogan specimen from the late Dr. Okeer's lab on Tuchanka and mining as many resources as he could in the meantime. Of course, with this productivity and newfound focus came stress.

_Hence the longer workouts and showers, I suppose…_

He quickly toweled himself off and changed into a white compression t-shirt and black athletic shorts, his standard evening attire. After mulling it over a bit, he decided that running shoes and socks would probably be appropriate as well. After tying his shoes, he pressed a button on his desk, near his growing collection of model alliance ships.

"EDI, can you tell me if Miranda is in her office?"

_"Yes, Commander. Miss Lawson is currently filling out a report for the mission on Tuchanka."_

"Good, I had been meaning to speak with her."

_"Shall I have her come up to the Captain's Quarters?" _

"That won't be necessary. I was planning on making myself a snack down in the mess afterwards. Just let her know I'm on my way to her office."

_"Will do, Commander. Logging you out."_

Shepard stopped by his nightstand and picked up his old Alliance dog tags as he always did, putting them on and tucking them under his shirt.

_Old habits die hard. _

After a brief ride in the elevator and a short walk, Shepard arrived at Miranda's office. The door was open, revealing Miranda typing away at her terminal, an empty plate of food next to her.

_As always. _

"Hey Miranda, do you have a minute?"

Miranda stopped typing and looked up at the Commander, staring a bit longer than she should have at his form-fitting compression shirt.

_Never saw him wear that around before; he must've been down in the gym again. _

"Of course, Commander, sit down if you want. I'm just finishing up a report on the Tuchanka mission."

Still sore from his workout, Shepard slowly sat in one of the chairs opposite the beautiful XO.

"Actually, that's just what I came down here to talk about…sort of."

Miranda looked at him quizzically.

"I'm glad we're working well together, Miranda. Since we buried the hatchet and you came back on the ground team, things are going well, and we're ahead of the schedule I had imagined we'd be following with these dossiers. All in all, I'm pretty impressed with how you've decided to handle this."

Miranda folded her hands neatly in her lap.

"As am I, Shepard. As far as Cerberus operations go, this is by far the best one I've been a part of."

Shepard leaned back in his chair.

"That's because this isn't a Cerberus mission."

Miranda focused her eyes on Shepard's, looking for any signs of hostility. Surprisingly, she found none.

"Maybe not to you, but I report directly to the Illusive Man. As I've said before, he's entrusted me with making sure you succeed."

Shepard rubbed his chin.

"What made you so loyal to Cerberus, anyways?"

Taking her hands off her legs, Miranda folded them on her desk and re-crossed her legs.

"Well, I suppose you deserve to know."

She paused for a quick breath.

"Do you remember me telling you about my genetic modification? Well, it wasn't my choice. My father…created me, as a way of preserving and advancing his personal goals. He didn't want a daughter; he wanted a dynasty. As soon as I could, I ran away. Cerberus took me in."

"Why Cerberus?"

Miranda ran a hand through her long, black hair, straightening the few loose strands.

"Because I knew they could protect me. My father would never have let me go. I knew he would continue to pursue his…investment."

_Jesus, she's had it pretty rough as well._

"And what of your mother?"

Miranda shook her head.

"I never had one. I was created with an amalgam of desired traits and an alteration of my father's Y-chromosome. How arrogant can you be? The man is completely egomaniacal."

Shepard scratched his head.

"Who exactly is your father, if you don't mind me asking?"

"A very successful businessman, and an adamant one as well. I know it's ironic, but my father believed in human-positive agenda. He actually donated generously to Cerberus before I joined them."

"I can understand you seeking asylum with Cerberus, but I still don't understand why you've stayed with them all these years. You're a very intelligent and logical woman, Miranda. You could be working anywhere you wanted."

Miranda stood up slowly, turning her back to Shepard as she grabbed a few data tablets from her desk and stored them in a safe across the room. Shepard's eyes followed.

"Maybe, but Cerberus has always been committed to the greater good of human-kind. It helps me find purpose in my creation, and I feel as if I have a place with them."

Shepard rested his elbows on his thighs, folding his hands as he did so.

"You are who you are Miranda; you don't need to make any excuses for it."

Miranda sat back down and scoffed, then looked down.

"Easy for you to say. We're both engineered for greatness Shepard. You were great before you were re-built…I'm great because of it."

Shepard's expression remained disarming.

"Your spirit, determination, and personality are what make you great. There's more to you than your genetic upgrades. Try to keep that in mind "

Miranda's gaze returned to Shepard, as she cracked the smallest of smiles.

"Oh…I'm not sure if I believe that, but…thank you."

Shepard smiled and nodded.

"Certainly."

The two sat in silence for a minute.

"Well, I should get going. Thanks for the talk, Miranda."

"Anytime, Commander."

Shepard stood up slowly and walked out of the room. Miranda watched him as he left, eyeing his confident, athletic stride.

_He's an interesting one, no doubt about that. And __**certainly **__easy on the eyes…_

She quickly shook the thought from her mind.

_There'll be no more of that, Miranda. Get back to work. _

Reluctantly, she returned her attention to the mission report.

_What a pain. At least I can get some rest after this._

A few hours later, Miranda finished her mission report and forwarded it to the Illusive Man. She then opened her email inbox as she always did before heading in for the evening. Her inbox was, as usual, flooded with mail from various contacts through her ordeals with Cerberus. One however, was from Lantea, her contact on Illium.

_This is odd._

Miranda opened the email, and immediately felt as if an anvil had been dropped on her chest.


End file.
